Wednesday, May 26, 2010

What a Night...

Tonight I was at a bar in Brooklyn called Zabloski's. It's a favorite place of mine to go after work because they have cheap beers and free wi-fi. I stepped away from my table to get a beer and when I came back, a couple was sitting at my table. So I let them know it was perfectly fine for them to join me, I had no problem sharing the table, and even bought a round of drinks for the table. I put my computer away in my backpack as to not be rude, and the three of us talked about sports, politics, history, etc. I let my guard down and went to the bathroom leaving them with an "I'll be right back." I was in the bathroom for all of 2 minutes and came out to find the two of them gone and the table we were sitting at completely empty. My heart dropped. I went into complete shock. I thought "this can't be happening," I had been robbed, again. It was the perfect scam, a foreign couple posing as innocent tourists disarm me by engaging me in casual conversation, quickly earn my trust, all the while knowing that I have a PowerBook in my backpack and in their minds, who knows what else. They both wait for the moment I excuse myself to go to the bathroom, grab my backpack and cell phone, and casually walk out and make off with nearly $10K worth of equipment.

As I stared the completely empty table we were all sitting at just moments ago, adrenaline surged through my veins, and my heart was pounding though my chest. How stupid of me. I'm always so careful with my gear, how could I be stupid enough to let this happen? Again? My mind raced through the inventory of all the contents of the now missing backpack. Everything I use for work: my computer; a Mac PowerBook that I spent an awful lot of money on, twice. Not to mention the hard drive inside filled with thousands of priceless photos of my children that I put a lot of effort into taking. My camera; the coveted Canon 5D Mark II that I worked extraordinarily hard to save up for. I went into a complete and utter state of all consuming panic. I ran over to the bartender and asked if he'd seen them leave in a hurry. He hadn't seen anything. It takes him nearly 5 minutes to even acknowledge you to get a $2 beer, how the heck is he going to notice a couple leaving hurriedly? Useless, I tell you. I ran outside and asked the smokers gathered on the sidewalk in front of the bar if they had seen a couple leave in a hurry with a backpack. No one saw anything. I knew I'd been beat. I knew they were probably long gone. It was the perfect crime. I had unwittingly given them all the time they needed to get away. I imagined all the possible scenarios that could be unfolding at that very moment: They could have been several blocks away now, disappearing into the Subway, never to be seen again. They could have hopped in a cab and been several blocks away by now. Not only did I not remember their names, even if did, what's to say they didn't like about that?

A wave of devastation washed over me. My hands were shaking. This can't be happening, not now. It's already been a difficult year for Genevieve more than anyone knows or could imagine. We've been struggling to get on our feet for some time and this is a setback that we simply cannot absorb. With both of us suffering from 'bad news fatigue,' I couldn't even imagine having to call Genevieve with this news.
It was now starting to sink in that I had been robbed. Not at gun or knife point, but by a well planned, systematic breakdown of my guardedness, earning my trust just enough to allow me to feel confident enough to leave my gear behind while I dismissed myself to the bathroom. I reached into my pocket for my phone. Gone. They had taken that too. I'm powerless. I can't even call 911. Even if I called from the bar phone, NYPD might not show up for half an hour and all they'd do is fill out a report. The robbers even wiped the table clean of the hardly sipped $2 PBR cans I had just bought. Did they take that with them too?

At least I still had the car keys. I sprinted down the block and hopped into the car, figuring that if the two of them were only a few blocks away, hunkered down by the weight of my backpack, that I could catch up with them and fight them to get it back. I hoped that I'd catch up with them a few blocks away, and be able to confront them. I raced up North 7th Street towards the intersection at Bedford. No sign of them. I cautiously ran the red light and make a loop around the block, carefully scanning each group of people that I saw walking by. I imagined the two them laughing about how easy it was to rip me off. As I raced down the street I imagined them opening the backpack and discovering the camera. Even if they sold it for half price, they'd make a windfall. I raced back to the bar. The only thing left for me to do was to run back to the bar and call 911.

As I ran back up to the bar entrance, standing there on the sidewalk casually smoking a cigarette was James. Now that I saw his face, I remembered his name. "James" I said, out of breath. "My bag's inside, right?" James gave me a quizzical look. "Yeah, mate! We just moved over to the next seats, so I brought all your things over, " Still out of breath, I said, "James, you have no idea the scenario that just played out in my head." I gave the man a big hug. I explained to him the horror that had just seemingly unfolded. He could see the look of panic on my face. "Where did ya go mate?" I told him exactly what had just happened, (in my mind,) and he couldn't believe it. He explained to me that the Irish don't rip people off like that. I was so relieved, but a bit embarrassed that I had automatically assumed that the two of them were thieves. I finally felt as though God was smiling on me for once, and yes, I thanked him as well as James. He offered a cigarette, and without hesitation, I obliged. James explained how after I left, he just moved everything over to the next table, and couldn't figure out where I had disappeared to.
I couldn't see my backpack, because it was UNDER the next table. His lady friend was sitting at the new table, but I couldn't see her either, because I was so busy freaking out about the fact that our table as empty, and thought I had been robbed. I can't even begin to describe the sense of relief I'm feeling tonight. But I'm also rattled to the core. Because, What if? It really would have been the final blow for me in terms of location scouting and photography. I can't even imagine how I would have coped with such a loss.

Did I overreact in this situation? It may appear that way to most, but you have to understand the back story of the last 12 years of my life. I have a very dysfunctional relationship with New York. I keep getting abused and beaten, but keep coming back. New York has never been kind to me.  The past 12 years have been a veritable minefield of catastrophic disasters and devastating setbacks. What did I learn from tonight? NEVER WALK AWAY FROM ANYTHING YOU WISH TO KEEP. PERIOD. I got lucky tonight. Yes, I may have misread the situation, but to be honest, I'm still suffering from shell shock from all the horrible things that have happened to me in New York over the years. I really hope that this is a sign that my (BAD) luck is about to change.

1 comment:

Angela said...

Ugh.
My heart in my throat.
And I am so relieved that everything turned out alright. I love when you get a reality rush without the horrible consequence. You are right to take it as a sign!

I truly fear a mechanical failure and all our kids pictures on the external hard drive being irretrievable. So I think at naptime I will back them up on disc. Thanks for the reminder.

And I hope you and New York get all your feelings worked out. Sounds like ya'll aren't quitting each other anytime soon.