READER SUBMITTED CONTENT Man, that place is fucked up. Last Sunday I went out for a couple of drinks and ended up meeting my friend at a bar on Rivington. We were there for three hours before we decided to bail. We were having a smoke outside when I realize my phone is missing. Fuck! It’s an iPhone and I already knew it was gone.
Man, that place is fucked up. Last Sunday I went out for a couple of drinks and ended up meeting my friend at a bar on Rivington. We were there for three hours before we decided to bail. We were having a smoke outside when I realize my phone is missing. Fuck! It’s an iPhone and I already knew it was gone.
Anyway, I was inside looking for my phone in a dark, loud, shitty bar while my friend is outside called it. I didn’t find it, but my friend apparently knew where it was.
It turns out someone answered my phone when he called and wanted us to meet him on 2nd and 2nd with $400. My first reaction was, “Fuck that, the phone was $200.” (I found out later it’s only $200 when you first activate it; after it’s $400.) I’m not going to get stabbed by some thug Puerto Rican / Dominican (apparently he sounded thug and Spanish) over a fucking iPhone, so I told my friend to forget it.
But when I got home and I started getting really pissed. After I changed all my passwords, I told my girl to give me her phone so I could meet this piece of shit. I wanted to bring a knife, but my girlfriend talked me out of it, so I brought my U-Lock instead. She also insisted on going there with me.
On the way there she called my phone and the guy was all like, “Hey baby, come meet me at this club on 2nd and 2nd.” He never said the name of the club, but she told him we had the money and we were on our way.
When we got there I told her to give me her phone and I would check out some clubs on the block. I think I ended up going into some club next to The Black Cock. It seemed like the right place — I mean, I was the only white dude in there. So there I am with a U-Lock in the back of my pants, calling my stolen phone, hoping to see someone answer. I was even going to have the DJ make an announcement, but there was no one in the booth. After several calls, I realized my phone was off. Right around this time I dropped my girl’s phone and the battery went flying across the floor. I eventually found her battery and just gave up. Drunk and Pissed.
The next morning I walked to the store, disconnected my phone, and had to buy a new one. I didn’t want this Spanish piece of shit to be the reason I didn’t have an iPhone. I was pretty much over it now, but then some guy called me (I kept the same number). I asked who it was and the guy goes, ”Uh, I was getting a lot of calls from this phone last night.” I told him my phone was stolen and hung up. I should have been like, “It was probably your fucking ghetto ass friend who stole my phone,” but I didn’t think of it.
Fast forward two days. I called AT&T and get the serial number of my old phone and decided to file a police report at the 7th Precinct.
As soon as I walked in there was a group of Spanish thugs. One of them was just getting out of jail and they were giving him his shit in a plastic bag. The front desk woman there was really cool and started taking down all my information. She even thought they could set up the guy who stole my phone.
But then the dude who was getting out of jail started flipping the fuck out. He was accusing the cops that arrested him of stealing $5,000 from his coat. Then his friends start calling the cops, “dirty fucking pigs.” As this is going down, some Chinese guy in a suite is also flipping out and being led to the other room in handcuffs.
This is when it gets real good: While the guy who is accusing the cops of stealing his money is still flipping out, a little Puetro Rican / Dominican (I don’t know which) girl in her twenties comes in with her 3 year-old son.
It took her all of five seconds to start flipping a shit. She was the wife of the guy who just got out of jail. I was sitting there thinking, “This place is fucked up. I just want to file a police report so the asshole who sole my phone can never activate it again, and I have three thugs and a chick with a three year kid flipping shit on the police.” The guy’s wife straight up told the cops in there that she hopes they all get shot in the head.
It’s fucked up that his money was stolen, but fuck, it was probably made illegally anyway. In fact, all his friends were like, “I make your salary in a week, you fucking dirty pigs.” The chick also called out the lady who was helping me, calling her a “$9-an-hour stupid bitch.”
That’s when the front desk lady flipped shit and called her a ghetto piece of shit, and threaten to beat the shit out of her if she didn’t leave. This threat didn’t even phase her, or her man and his friends, because they all kept flipping out.
I really don’t know why they just didn’t arrested all them there. I mean shit, they were doing this all in front of their 3-year-old.
Anyway, this went on for a while, and another random guy got brought in and arrested. Eventually, they stopped yelling and started calling whoever you call to file a complaint.
This is when a detective came downstairs and called out my name and told me to follow him. It was pretty rad to see where the detectives worked. I felt like I was on that show The First 48, except I didn’t kill anyone. He listened to my story for like five minutes and pretty much told me that there wasn’t much he could do. I completely forgot to mention that I received a call from one of the friends of the guy who stole my phone, but at this point I really didn’t even give a shit anymore.
So yea, I am definitely over Spanish thugs in NYC. Also, I wished I filmed this whole shit going down.