2002-05-18 - 11:22 a.m.

New Drivers License: $18

4 New Boxes of Checks in the Shredder: $30

4 Replacement Boxes of Checks: $30

Beloved Purse: $15

Changing the Locks: $57

Missing Cash $17

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Crackhead scoring a rock: PRICELESS

Here's something that doesn't happen every night. I'm sitting in a bar with my pal Thom. We're just chillin' with a few beers, when suddenly, a crackhead walks in from the rain holding a partially broken down cardboard box over his head. He kinda stood there in the middle of the bar, right next to me, looking around, trying to be nonchalant with this dripping box on his head. I figured he was just another panhandler - that's often an issue in New Orleans bars. But deep down, I FELT like it was going to be bad. I had my eye on him, and I was still contemplating my plan of action, and next thing you know, he grabbed my purse off the table and took of running. After the 3 seconds it took to sink in, Thom jumped up and chased him a few blocks down the street, still holding the box on his head, but his head start was too great and he lost him.

I had about $17 in my wallet, which is no biggie, and thank god my cell phone was on the table and not in my purse, but this is what he got: my driver's license, credit cards, check book, keys to my house and car, new favorite lipstick, folding fan which was a gift from my lovely Aussie friend Prue, pictures, the business card of a really cool guy I met the other night, my Smoothie King punch card which only had one punch left before my free smoothie, my insurance cards, sentimental ticket stubs, my Sav-a-Center Bonus Rewards card. In essence, MY LIFE.

So the first thing I did after calling the cops is cancel my credit cards. At least several people were kind enough to buy me drinks. I got my spare keys and went back for my car, and Thom slept over to protect me. I didn't really think the crackhead would make his way to my house, but he had my address and keys, and he could have. And if not him, someone who found my purse after he dumped it. He ran straight into the projects, so I don't think any good is going to come out of my past posessions.

Now, here's what pisses me off the most - except for the total violation I feel. That list of money at the top of the page? That's how much money this fucking cocksucking crackhead is costing me. It's not enough he took my cash and sentimental items, but now I have to do all this work and spend all this money because some piece of shit cracksmoking bastard needed a high. Well guess what. It's only a matter of time before I see that fucker's ugly mug in the obituaries, because he WILL get a cap in his ass soon. Not from me of course, though I wish I had the honor, but from his fellow crackhead brethren no doubt.

Fucking BASTARD!

And you know, that is the second real violent crime perpetrated against me. There was another incident, but it was more of an asshole just fucking with me by shoving me by the throat up against a wall. Drunk frat guy. But about 10 years ago, I was held up at gun point. That was no fun, but not as costly for me. I am just so livid and I keep replaying it in my mind, like I'll somehow be able to prevent it.

And the weird thing is, the whole drive to the bar, I had a sick feeling, and I consciously thought *something bad is going to happen. i don't want to go out tonight. i have a very bad feeling about this* last time I ever ignore one of those.

Well what more can I say except that fucking fuck better get his karmic return ASAP. If only I could somehow know about it...

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