ROBBED

Bob and I made it through the first AND second “parole” weekends quite nicely. The fire Department was ever-so kind and we quickly learned to plan our day around one pick-up and drop-off. . Most of our day consisted of making plans to move to Nashua.
Bob arranged for a moving company to pack us up, move us and unpack us in Nashua before he was returned to Rehab.
He was so thoughtful. I, on the other hand, am basically a cheap bitch!
I could not see spending all that money to have them pack glassware and dishes. It was basically a sacrilege for a Scotsman, so, after I left Bob off at University Rehab, I returned to Salem and packed them up myself, labeled the boxes and had them stacked by the door for pick up. All of this, while Bob was having such a wonderful time back at “rehab”. (He would never had known until I produced the cash I had saved……RIGHT!)
Bob had arranged for the movers to arrive in Salem on the following Friday morning. The plan was, once the movers were out of the door, I would lock up the Salem apartment, return the key to the apartment office, then meet the movers in Nashua and open that apartment up for them. While they were unloading, I would leave them to do the unloading and go to University Rehab, pick up Bob and return to the Nashua apartment for a weekend of unpacking, and (truly against my nature) organizing.
My packing efforts paid off. The movers handed back $350.00 cash, (Oh Happy Scotsman), and took off with our “Stuff” and headed for Nashua. I followed through with returning the key to the office and arrived at the Nashua apartment in time to unlock the door for the movers. (They had stopped for lunch).
“Mission accomplished”! I headed directly for the Rehab to pick up Bob for the weekend “Parole”.
When I arrived at Rehab, Bob was “parked” on the sidewalk gift wrapped in the ever present “Teflon-Tuxedo”, with a HUGE grin on his face.
I pulled into the parking spot that was designated as “Load Only” zone. Trust me, “loading” was a perfect word to describe Bob’s “less than graceful” entrance into my Escort.
We agreed that we could take our time and stop for lunch on the way to Nashua. The movers would need a lot of time to complete their end off the bargain.
By now, we had this whole “stuffing the elephant through a key-hole” thing down to a science. We had even gained an audience that could be counted on to watch every time we performed !
I opened the rear hatch (per usual), opened both doors of the car (per usual), and carefully placed my purse (containing the $350.00 cash) right behind the front seat, then placed the transfer board under Bob’s butt and started the initial slide to the front seat.
Our audience had assembled (as usual) on the side walk. Nurse, Pt’s, patient’s parents, all lined up to watch Lauren and Bob perform the “Stuff Big Bob into the Little Car” act that combined startling sound effects with clumsy choreography, and a few choice words to boot!
I slid Bob across the transfer board all the way to the part where I had to run around the other side to pull him through and DAMN, if a little kid from the projects jumped in the back of the car, grabbed my purse and in a flash was headed back to the projects.
I jumped out of the car, grabbed Bob by the pants and pulled him to the middle of the transfer board. “Are you stable?”
Bob just said “Yeah, what’s the matter?”
I yelled at Ralph (one of the patient’s father) while I was running down the driveway, ”Go help Bob into his chair-the little bastard has my purse!!
I put chase to the little creep, high heels and all. (I must have looked like sick imitation of Beau Derrick running down the beach in her swim suit!) I was truly in “slo-Mo” compared to the fleeing bastard.
The kid was several yards ahead of me and he was approaching the security hut at the entrance of the hospital. I yelled at the security guard “ stop that kid! He has my purse!”
The security guard (obviously not the braggadocios type) shrugged his shoulders and let the brat pass un-approached (other than by yours truly).
For a brief moment, I though I was closing the gap. Unfortunately, I was (nor am I now) accustomed to wearing “Girl clothes”. The fine art of walking upright in heels was always a problem with me. Hell, I had enough trouble walking and staying upright in sneakers!
I digress.
I threw off the heels (on the fly) and continued after the kid and my purse screaming like a wounded banshee using language (I’m sure) that could not be construed as proper nor lady-like. I believe I offended several species of animals during my verbal attack of both the security guard and the little twit!
I crossed the four lanes and ran into the Projects., cursing a “blue-streak” and getting more pissed as I ran. I passed a swing set that had a bunch of kids playing on it. They looked like little carnivores that had just discovered lame prey in their midst.
I ran passed the group and glanced over my shoulder. They were (all of them) right behind me. NOW I was REALLY PISSED! “ I have been robbed, run ragged, and now these buggers are gonna mug me”, I thought.
Damn it, I had worked hard for that $350.00 !
I finally stopped when the kid I was chasing went into a building. I was not familiar with the buildings and I was unarmed- not a very good combination.
I turned around, evidently looking as though I would kill the first thing that got near me, and walked straight through the crowd of hoodlums, across the street and passed the security guard. If I hadn’t been such a “Lady” I would have spit a the security guard. I just called him a f----g idiot and left it at that.
The Pt’s had put Bob back in his wheelchair and Ralph had called the Boston Police. The cop was standing at the curb when I returned.
The policeman( use the term lightly) lit into me with a tirade of memorable words (some I had just used-minutes ago) calling me a f----g idiot for going into the projects alone, jay-walking, littering (I presume he was referring to my shoes), etc.. SO I answered him “good, you don‘t go in there alone I‘m coming with you“.
I jumped into the cruiser and pointed the direction the “little bastard“ and my purse went.
The officer got in the car and agreed to take me into the projects to see if I could at least get my purse back. Thugs like this usually grab the cash and ditch the purse. I was hoping to find it on the other side of the building in the bushes or the dumpster.
When we got to the back side of the building I hopped out-alone. The cop wouldn’t get out of the car! .
“FINE, I will go look for myself”.
The cop locked the cruiser doors behind me.- comforting……..
I searched, bushes, dumpsters, sidewalks……nothing. I finally gave up and had my “chauffeur” take me back to University Rehab. So I could fill out the report and give a statement.
While I was doing the obligatory paperwork, the Rehab administrator was calling the tow company to move my car. Evidently, it was parked illegally because “nothing had been loaded in it“!
At this time, I added my entire repertoire of French, Spanish and English curses to the previous blue-stream of earlier. “You can’t take my car! The bastard stole my purse with my keys in it. I was loading Bob in the car when the bastard took them!”.
Ralph stepped between us. Did I mention Ralph was a very large man with a marine “high and tight” haircut and a tattoo?
He was the “hero of the day”. He told the guy that if he touched my car, he was going to kill him with his bare hands.
The (Oh so brave) Cop stepped up and explained. The tow-truck driver, tail between his legs, Just drove off, without my car.
I finished signing reports and took Bob back inside. Now I was stuck at rehab, my car in a tow-away zone, with shift change coming up (no one to corroborate our story) which meant a possible re-run of the 20 minutes.
Bless Bob. He is so grounded. He called his buddy, Walter. Remember the Guy that didn’t like to be rear-ended?
I believe he pulled up before Bob hung up. It never did take him long to get anywhere.
Walter took me to Nashua to get my spare key. (believe it or not, I knew which box it had been packed in). I think the trip took ten minutes. DAMN! He scared the “Bejeezus” out of me! I don’t believe the speedometer went below “red-line” the entire way.
I retrieved the key and we were back at the rehab. Total elapsed time…..45 minutes!
Talk about “Ground-Hog Day”. I met Bob at the curb, the audience gathered, I loaded Bob.
Our New adventure was just beginning………