This morning, I left my apartment to catch the 2/3 Eastern parkway train here in Brooklyn as I normally do every morning. Normally the station is really busy with people coming and going and there’s usually a kid that’s selling papers parked out in front of the steps but I was running late this morning and instead of the usual 8:30 mad dash, I was starting my commute at around 10 AM and there was no one really around.

As I started down the stairs into the station, five guys started coming up towards me, scoping behind them and ahead off them to see if the coast was clear. They were acting really sketchy and one of them looked at me me and said to the others, “Him! Get him! Do it! Fucking punk-ass, do it now!” I had no doubt that I was about to get jumped for my bag or my wallet.

They blocked off the stairs to try and box me in, so I turned around and high-tailed it out onto the street. One of them reached out to try and grab me, but I was too quick. All five of them ran out onto the street after me and for a few seconds I had the incredulous thought that I was about to get beat down and robbed on a busy street in broad daylight, but they took off running down the block, stopping at one point when the mouthy one slammed another guy up against a car, yelling at him and calling him a punk-ass, I assume because he let me get away.

I really don’t like the idea of being mugged again. I don’t know what it is about me or this fucked up neighborhood ghetto shithole, but being robbed twice and mugged once is really and quite truly fucking enough. Just that morning, I’d received the shipment of my brand new laptop and for some reason decided to leave it at home, against my natural inclination to dive headfirst into a new toy, which is a really good thing because if I had gotten robbed, I’d be shit out of luck.

For the second time in a year, I have come home to find that someone broke into my apartment. The window in my bedroom was completely busted out and broken glass was all over the floor. This time, however it looks like the thieves were scared off. While the window was broken, it was still locked and it seems nothing has been taken. There was a moment last night when I came home for about fifteen minutes and when, on opening the door, I thlought I heard a noise. But as loud as my neighbors can be and as paranoid as I am, I didn’t think anything of it. I never went into my bedroom, so it’s possible I’d scared them off or at it had at least already happened. I didn’t notice the window until this morning.

So, that makes it the sixth time in the past 2 years (two occuring while I lived here) that my apartment has been robbed. Who knew I’d be so popular? I’ve called the police, who can do nothing and the landlord isn’t returning calls. My building’s super tells me I likely won’t see anything fixed for a few days, as it’s a holiday weekend, so I’m essentially trapped indoors till this is resolved. I have a huge gaping hole in my bedroom. This is Brooklyn, I’m not going anywhere.