I Got Robbed!

A friend and I were walking down the street in Argentina a few years back. It was a rougher part of town. Barred windows, largely dirt roads, open sewage running along the side of the street and some amateur gangs sitting on the curb.

My friend was Salvadorian, about 5'6" and eating an orange. We were on our way to an appointment and were reviewing our plans as we walked.

As we approached the end of the pavement, a couple thugs (the locals called them chorros) approached us carrying a plastic bag. It was the kind you might get if you purchased athletic shoes. Thick plastic and a draw string.

One of them pulled out a bundle of socks and asked if we wanted to buy them. I declined and continued walking. They persisted and pulled out a box displaying a wind up flashlight.

I again declined.

At this point, the chorro on the left lifted his shirt and pulled a handgun from his waistband. He said "Don't panic, this is a stick up. Just put your money in the bag." He glanced over my head, making sure the coast was clear as he alternated pointing the gun at me and, not at my friend, but his, as he tried to gesture to the bag he wanted me to put the money in. The bag his friend was holding, filled with socks and a flashlight.

At this point, I was carrying roughly 400 Argentine pesos (about $100 USD at that time). A small fortune for a couple of street thugs. Fortunately, I had the foresight to hide the money in multiple places on my person. (If you want to know where, just ask. I'd love to write a post on how to conceal things.)

Handing a couple small bills out was generally enough to placate robbers and get them to go away. Unfortunately I lacked the foresight to carry a couple small bills in an easy to access pocket. 

Also unfortunately, (maybe fortunately? Depends how you look at it.) I was an old hat at getting robbed and having guns pointed at me. 

So, instead of engaging my fight or flight response, I simply looked the thug in the eye and smiled. Seeing me smile made him start to visibly tremble. This was bad because his trigger discipline was nonexistent and if he got too jumpy, I’d get shot.

So, I tried to get him talking. I said, "My friend, what's your name?" 

He said,"My name is Ju-" before his friend slapped him and said, "Don't tell him what your name is!"

"I'm not telling you what my name is. Now put your money in the bag."

He was still trembling as he again alternated pointing his gun at me and his friend.

I reached in my back pocket and pulled out a folded handkerchief that had at one point been white. "This is where I keep my money."

 He took the handkerchief.

"But there's nothing in it."

He returned the handkerchief.

I opened it, and pointed at a rectangular stain in the middle. "That's where I keep my money. There's nothing there.”

I was telling the truth. That is where I generally kept my money when I was only caring small amounts. In those instances, I'd pull it out, wipe my forehead with it and offer it to whoever happened to be robbing me the time. They always refused it, leaving me to put it, and my money, back in my pocket.

Seeing my empty "wallet", they started to get frantic and insisted that I had something. I assured them I didn't and emptied my pockets revealing a nearly empty coin purse, a pen and an old Nokia cellphone. The kind people joke about being tougher than Mjolnir.

So they took the coin purse and the cellphone before turning to my friend, who was at this point standing behind the one on the left, the one with the gun, still eating his orange but now laughing as he watched them blunder their way through a robbery. He casually handed over his coin purse, which was much fuller than mine. 

Then, the chorros dumped everything into the plastic bag, including their handgun and started walking away.

When they had gone about 20 feet, I yelled, "Hey!” as I shoved my hand into my bag. "This is for you! Come get it!"

They immediately turned around, fear in their eyes as I reached into my bag. But when they saw what I had, they said, "We don't want it."

At this time in my life, I was a proselytizing missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, and the thing I pulled out of my bag was a pamphlet of Christ's teachings.

So I told them, "It's about Jesus, and it's yours! So take it!" 

They quickly returned and accepted the pamphlet assuring me that "We all believe in Jesus. Thank you."

At this point, I checked my watch, my friend and I continued down the street, and both of us chuckled about the experience before resuming our conversation.

This experience influences a lot of my writing. Especially action scenes and anything with high stakes.

It shows me that experience changes how people act under pressure and that simply deviating from someone's expectations can turn them into their own enemy, or make them more dangerous. It also shows me how people may act differently based on their motivations and goals. 

The thugs wanted easy money and I wanted to keep my money. But once the conflict was over, I defaulted to my goal of evangelizing.

I also suspect the person we were meeting that afternoon arranged for them to rob us. But I can’t prove it. And that influences how I write intrigue into my stories.

And the whole experience (along with many others I had) educated me on how it feels to be in each moment of a fast paced situation like this.

What unique experiences influence your art?