Got Mugged While Riding a Crippled Bicycle

On my way home from the bike shop, at 1 a.m., I got held up by a bunch of guys in a modified truck/van about a block from my house.

I took $20 out of our till to buy dinner and pay for a few spare parts at the Bike Oven for one of my bikes. I had a little change left over, maybe $11.

It was a long day - we sold a bunch of bikes and I had to pack each bike in a hand-made box. When I went to drop the bikes at Fedex, it was too late, and they had closed already.

The parts from the Bike Oven didn't work with my bike - so I decided to ride a crippled Flying Pigeon home instead. I hammered it's improperly set cotters into place and off I went.

God, the moon was something else tonight. I got a good long glimpse of it floating above through my greasy glasses while slowly coasting down Marmion Way.

I really slowed down after riding up Avenue 37 to Griffin - because the cotter on the non-drive side wiggled loose on me. For some reason I decided to switch off my front light. I passed by Manitou Elementary and saw that it was 12/13/08 - and I though that it was Friday the 13th. I smiled, "Lucky day," to myself.

One block to go and I switched off my rear light too for some reason. Then I really slowed down. Someone could have walked faster than I was riding.

Very smoothly, a well groomed SUV with a two-tone paint job - silver on the bottom and black on top - pulled in front of me and stopped. I thought they were going to kick my ass for no reason, but then I remembered that I didn't give a shit what they thought they were going to do.

I saw two guys get out of the car. One, taller, two cheap blue tear drops below his right eye was talking. His sagging blue jersey and wild eyes tried to threaten me with his gangster bull shit. "Homie" this and "homie" that.

I ripped my hood off my head, and said, "What do you want?" I backed away from them, tossing my bike down. They could have that piece of crap, if they wanted it.

Bald man's buddy was in a dark sweater. He was shorter, stockier, in a black baseball cap and had some sort of mustache.

"You money homie, give us your money!" said Baldy.

I said, "Sure." I reached into my left pocket and grabbed the tiny wad of cash I had (thank God I had that in my pocket - otherwise they would have wanted my bag, which had a bunch of papers, my various sets of keys and my camera).

I gave each of them half of whatever paper was in my pocket. Baldy saw my pocket dangling out of my pants, and said, "Money!"

"That's all the cash I have."

"You're a little bitch, homie", said Baldy.

"Whatever, man."

"Yo this is our hood homie", as his friends u-turned the car to pick him up.

"You can have it."

"This is our hood. You're a little bitch." Baldy said.

"Two on one, huh? You can have it."

"Bitch", said the driver.

They didn't even drive away all that quickly.

I slowly walked up my driveway and went inside.

The cops are allegedly on their way now - but when I called 911 I was dumb and told the truth - no guns, no violence. That means no cops until 3 a.m. to take my stupid report. I guess it is better that they are out chasing ballasos and real crime.

It took 5 years of living in North East L.A., and it finally happened - I got robbed. Everyone around here has told me, "Hey, watch out man." It took a lot of trying but rolling the dice finally caught up to me.

I still don't know why I did what I did - riding slowly, no lights, 1 a.m., Lincoln Heights. It felt like destiny. I'm not scared nor am I angry. I was lucky, that is all. Really lucky I took that $20 out of our till. Otherwise I would have had to find out if those guys really were packing weapons or not.