"You Can Always Go...Downtown" (If you take three trains and a bus and wear a scarf and have a secure purse and strong boots and carry some mace)

On Monday I started my new job, which by the way I love...more on that later. Anyway, new job is downtown and on Monday I walked around during my lunch hour and thought "It's so nice to work downtown again".

F That.

Because throughout the week I would either arrive at work 20 minutes early or ten minutes late each day even though I left my house at the exact same time. Thanks CTA.

But yesterday, Friday, that just really took the cake.

It all started when I walked to my bus stop. I have to take the bus to the redline now since they have shut down my train stop for a year. There is no bus stop sign at my bus stop which leads to each day more and more confused people milling around like chickens in the barnyard.
"There's a bench! But no sign!" "The bus is stopping and opening it's door...but there's no sign!" I was one of these stupid people on Monday but a nice lady told me I was in the right place. (And then told me her entire life story. And then warned me that if there were one seat left only...she was gonna need it...which lead to a long story about her many back problems...but I indulged her, it's Christmas.) Anyway, yesterday...which we will now call Lame Friday...I walked to the bus stop and there was a man waiting. He seemed nice enough, and I may have even started to find him not unattractive if it wern't for the following conversation...
Him: Is this where the bus stops?
Me: Yes.
Him: Cause there's no sign.
Me: I know, it's confusing...I think they took it down during all this construction.
Him: But this is the bus stop?
Me: Well, the bench is here so it must be!
Him: (Unamused look.)
Me: Yeah, this is it. I've gotten the bus here every morning this week.
Him: You're sure?
Me: Um, yeah. It comes a few minutes after 8, it's the only reliable bus in Chicago.
Him: (unamused look)
Me: Well, you don't have to believe me...except here comes the bus.

I had this nervous fear that the bus for some reaason would bypass us and I would be proven wrong and have to endure the told you so wrath of this man. I think things like that sometimes. And then I wondered if I really had been taking that bus each morning. Maybe I WAS in the wrong place. But the bus pulled up, as expected, and opened it's doors to welcome us to part two of Lame Friday where the man, who I had been kind enough to reassure about the bus stop being the bus stop PUSHED himself in front of me...literally knocked me out of the way...got on the bus and TOOK THE LAST SEAT!

Now look, I don't expect men to get up for me just because I'm a girl. But I do expect them to give me the last seat. (And I do expect them to give up their seats for old ladies and pregnant women which NEVER happens and so I ALWAYS give up my seat for those people and then glare at all the men. I usually look around and sigh and stand up and say "Here, let ME." and the old lady or pregnant lady understands and she glares at all the men with me) Anyway, he took the last seat and the bus was packed so I had to hang on to the bar. Fine. Until the bus driver slammed on the breaks and I flew falling face first over some girls lap and into a teenage boys butt. For a moment we were a tableau of British Farce, with me in the spank position, goosing the houseboy while Lady Soandso raised her arms in the air, her mouth agape in hilarious horror. The boy was embarassed and his friends laughed at him. Sorry Kid. The girl was really nice and asked if I was ok. I was not at all embarassed...I was pissed. And pissed always cancels out every other feeling. That's why people get pissed so much I think, so they don't have to feel shame or hurt or sad.

I was mostly pissed because I thought I looked cute that day, everything had sort of gone right in the morning and when I'd looked at my reflection in the bus window earlier I'd thought "pretty" instead of "ahhhhh!" and now I had looked like an ass, and I was pissed. So when I stood up I walked over to where the man was sitting in the last seat and stared at him the entire rest of the way. Literally, I was standing over him and glaring. He knew. He looked sheepish. He still didn't give me his damn seat though, but when we got to the platform at the redline he saw me and looked down and kept walking. Jerko.

THEN. I went to lunch at Cosi. It was delicious. I had a yummy salad. I paid no attention to the crazy bitch wandering around while everyone ate. I certainly didn't notice her anywhere near me. I certainly didn't FEEL her hand slip inside my open purse.

THEN. I got on the elevator to go back to work and scraped my hand against something sharp. A few minutes later, when I looked down, me and the other people in the elevator were all drowning and gasping for air from the intense amount of blood spewing forth from my finger. I had to wear one of those yucky sticky band aids all day and it fit weird.

I decided a day like this called for a drink with my friend. So I went online to check my balance. "You have -$79.00" What? That's not true. I'm poor, but I'm not negativelly poor. I looked at my past charges. Panda Express, ew. White Hen, no. Two large charges at Sprint...I don't use Sprint. At this point I'm still not connecting any of this. Am I looking at the wrong person's balance? I call the bank. "Read me your ATM number" "One sec, let me get my....oh."

Wallet Stolen.

I started to cry a little. The bank woman was really nice. I don't really want to announce which Bank I use on my blog...but you shoud all go there, they are always really nice. She cancelled the card and said nice stuff and told me what actions to take.

The really bad news? Since I had started a new job the HR department had asked me to bring in my social security card that day so they could make a copy. It was in my wallet. I NEVER carry that with me, I had literally put it in that morning.

Here is what the criminal got:

1) My SS card.
2) My license. I needed to get an Illinois license anyway, this just makes it WAY more complicated. Thanks!
3) My ATM card.
4) My CTA 7-day pass that was NOT expired.
5) Some receipts of Eriks that I was holding in my wallet cause he didn't have any pockets that day.
6) $5 off at Best Buy.
7) Two American Express Gift Cards that had about $3 left on each of them.
8) Quarters
9) Business Cards (Mom, I lost Carrie's card so you'll have to get me her info again)
10) WORST OF ALL: MY WALLET! I loved that wallet so much. My birthparents bought it for me via an Anthropologie gift certificate last Christmas. It was green and had little knobby things. It was also expensive but I splurged. I went on the website (hobo international) to see if I could find it again but instead found a million others I liked. LOL. Mom said I was fickle. But I don't believe in buying the same thing twice. I also don't believe in going to the same vacation spot twice, life's too short you know? Anyway, Brannen and Michael came over last night and brought me a shiny new blue wallet which I love so that was very sweet.

We were let out of work early although I stayed late to call all the credit bureaus and file a police report and I even called Cosi...They were very nice by the by and said that they would go through all the trash cans. I sort of just wanted a Cosi gift card but whateve. I was really nice to them cause as we all know...you can accomplish more with sugar than with vinegar (except I suppose when it comes to cleaning). Luckily my nice co-worker printed out a list of things to do when you've been pick pocketed and also gave me money for the train ride home.

THEN. (I know) I walked out to the redline and was teary faced because I HATE being stolen from and I HATE when things I love are missing. I had images of my adorable little wallet being raped by some crooks fingers, pulling out it's insides and tossing it into a dumpster somewhere. My wallet lying alone in a gutter thinking about me and saying "How could she let this happen?" My wallet being sold by some other crook on the side of the road somewhere in one of those little kiosks. I hated everyone. I hated Chicago. I hated downtown. I hated Cosi. I hated wallets. I hated winter. Anyone who called me or would have seen me in that ten minute time span would have, and did, see the bitterest side of this girl.

I boarded the stupid redline and had to stand. Then when I went to switch over to the brown line NO ONE WOULD MOVE to let me across the platform. The brownline was there, doors open, waiting. I went from "Excuse me" to "MOVE IT" in mere seconds...but I still missed the train. I got there as the doors closed in my face. "GOD DAMN IT!" I barked. Some people looked at me, most didn't even notice. I sat down on the bench and cried a little. No one cared.

This city gets cold in the winter. Really, really cold.