Fat lip

The previous entry was written at work this afternoon, but today a second entry is necessary because something happened on the way home. I managed to get myself mugged. I was thinking maybe I wouldn't write about this, because lets face it, it's not exactly macho to come off worse in a fight, and I did. But then I thought, this is a diary, and it's about me, so I have to. So here's what happened.

I was walking home from the station. I took a route across some fairly rough residential areas. It's not a journey I would make in the dark, but it was early evening. It was raining and two young men were talking under a bridge ahead of me. One of them moved into my way and asked me for money. I thought he was a begger. He was bigger than me, about 25, grungy looking. I told him I didn't have any money, but he blocked my way. "I'm not joking", he said, pushing his face against mine. It didn't feel as though he was going to get violent, he was calm. I told him I didn't have any money again, and he hit me.

He hit me in the mouth and I tasted blood. I wasn't scared, but it hurt and I didn't know what to do. I've never hit anyone in my life. He kept telling me to give him money. So I showed him my wallet. There was just five pounds in there. "I want more than that", he told me. He seemed unable to make the connection between the empty wallet and no more money. "I want your bank card", he told me.

I hate having to stop bank cards when they get lost and I couldn't see why he would want it, so I asked him, "what do you want that for?" It was a mistake, he punched me again in the face. "Alright, take whatever you want", I said and I handed it to him. So he took it and started badgering me for the number. I gave him an old telephone number. He asked for it agaian and again, and I told him the same telephone number again and again.

Then he asked me for ID. I wasn't expecting that, but he wanted it apparently so that he could come after me if the number I gave him was wrong. That's kind of scary isn't it? He wanted something with my address on so that he could terrorise me if I didn't give him money. I don't carry id. I never do, never have. I don't want anyone to be able to force me to identify myself.

I hunted through my wallet for something that I could give him. He hit me again, and this time it was a complete surprise, I didn't even see it coming. I'm sure there were two men under the bridge when I arrived, and I thought the other one had hit me, it was in the side of the face. But I looked up and couldn't see him. It was just me and a single thug.

I handed him one of only two cards in my wallet with a photo on. It was in fact a Taiwanese alien resident certificate. He didn't seem to realise that it was in Chinese. It has an address on it, in Chinese, and it has nothing to do with my British address. On reflection I think it would have been better to give him my other photo card, for the library at eading University. I don't need that one anymore, but my Taiwanese ARC is in fact quite important. He asked me a few more times for the bank card number. Lucky I chose a number that I could remember and not some random number. And then he took off.

I took a zig zag route home. I really didn't want him to follow me. And then I called the police. They came and took a statement. The police woman asked why I wasn't angry. I suppose I should be really, but I'm not. I have a fat lip and a few things ache, but I guess I didn't get hurt badly. I'm a bit pissed off, and it would be nice if he dies soon, from serious and painful injuries, but I don't care much.

Here's a thought. I didn't have id, so Icouldn't give it to the scum bag. If Britain gets id cards, how many people are going to be walking around with their adress in their pocket ready to give to a mugger?