Originally published at customerservant.com. You can comment here or there.

I promised you all the back story to yesterday’s nasty little shock, and now seems as good a time as any to tell it.
I’ve been sitting on it for the last week or so, because it was just too traumatic to really go out there and tell the world about.
But I figure I should go ahead and put it out there as a warning, because this site’s going to probably get a lot more offensive to some people.
I was robbed and assaulted last Sunday night, (for those of you who are Jewish, the Sunday before Pesach, and for those of you who are Christian, Palm Sunday).
This time, it was at the apartment.
I got a knock on the door at about 11:30 at night, and, being half asleep, was more annoyed at being disturbed than at the fact that there was someone at the door I went out to the livingroom and asked who it was, and a man’s voice asked for me by name.
I opened the door to see what he wanted.
When I did so, the man stepped just inside, and asked what was up.
Someone else walked past, and that definitely bothered me, but in the sense of “Hey, I didn’t give you permission to just waltz on in,” not in the sense that something was about to go down.
I told the man I didn’t know who he was, and I wanted to know who he was looking for.
He told me he was looking for me, and that we were “real close friends”.
I told him again I didn’t know who he was, and that he needed to make sure he had the right address.
I assumed he was just drunk, because other people have come by looking for people while drunk, although never me, and they only knocked on the door before they realized they were at the wrong place.
The man pulled out a piece of paper, saying he needed to check the address.
He had said he was looking for apartment “letter-of-my-building”, and I told him that this entire building was that letter, and he needed a specific number.
He looked at his piece of paper, and said he had the wrong address.
He and his “friend” walked out, and I went to shut the door, but as I did so, the man grabbed me and threw me to the ground.
He put his hand over my mouth so I couldn’t scream for help.
I thought he was either going to rape me or kill me.
He asked if I had any money, and removed his hand just enough for me to say yes or no.
I told him I didn’t have any, and he told me to be quiet, and got up, and took the TV off the stand, and took the DVD player, wires included, with him.
As soon as I got the door shut and locked, I dialed 911.
The police came, took a statement, and did a report.
I also had them call my friend Andrew to come over because I was totally freaked out, and because I needed someone to catalog what was missing.
It also turned out that my cell phone “walked” out, along with my keys and all my identification, and bank card.
The police, and everyone else, think this robbery is connected to the other one I was involved in, the one where an ex-coworker stole $320 from me.
They think she might have been the other person in the place, since she didn’t speak at all, most likely because she knew I would recognize her voice.
I agree wholeheartedly.
Now, I’m trying to deal with it, and that’s where the blog will get very politically incorrect, not like I made an effort to be pulitically correct in the first place.
As a result of this, I’m feeling several emotions, in no particular order: Fear, anger, and a certain degree of powerlessness because of not being able to make any identification.
And, to top it all off, I think the man is here at work.
I can smell the cologne he was wearing, along with the cigarette smoke smell that hung around him.
I think he’s made it a point to cross my path several times today, because he knows I can’t identify him.
Friday, that freaked me out really badly, and I went home and drank a lot.
Today, it really pisses me off.
I really hope the cops manage to get these bastards.
They took my bank card, and tried to use it fourteen different times in one day, several of which were major attempted purchases at 711 type stores, and some attempts to get gas, (which, if my bank account is any indication, they got), and some ATM attempts, even though they didn’t have a pin.
Someone had to have seen them, or gotten video, or something.
I just can’t believe that anyone could get away with something like this.
And if they do, I hope they die a really horrible death or something like that.
I mean, I hope that happens anyway, but I at least want them to know they’ve been caught and will have the book thrown at them.
I think this is one of the lowest crimes one could commit, alomst down there with rape and child molestation and domestic violence, and I firmly believe that they should be punished.
Not by going to jail where they have cable, I mean a federal pound-me-in-the-ass prison, where they can become prison bitches.
Quite frankly, I’d like to have a hand in their punishment, and death if possible.
I don’t think they have any rights left.
And, in case anyone’s wondering, I’d say the same thing if they did it to someone else.
It’s very clear they used my blindness against me.
Not just took advantage of it, but actively used it as a weapon against me.
It’s really enough to drive a person to the very far right when it comes to oppinions on criminal justice, and I’ll post some articles on that later.
Right now I’m just trying to work through all of this, and I think this is one of the better ways to do it, because this is going to color my life for a while in one way or another.
I think this has been the most difficult post to write.
It’s taken me almost two hours to do it.

Originally published at customerservant.com. You can comment here or there.

We actually have some work-related, non-Jaws-help-quotation news.
Unfortunately, it didn’t pan out.
The client sent a URL for me to try, but the syntax is bad.
They had spaces throughout the whole thing.
I tried replacing the spaces with %20, (you can’t have spaces in URLs), but that didn’t work either.
I learned that you can’t have spaces in URLs way back in my “intro to Windows” (it was actually Introduction to Computers), in my freshman year of college.
If this was passed to the go-between by the actual programmers, then we’re in big trouble.