Saturday, August 16th, 2014. My birthday was the following Monday, it was first week of work but couple days before students, entonces… we go out. So, we’re in a club called, Onno’s, in the Zonal Colonial of Santo Domingo, DR. We have new chicks in the crew, and some anchors… Turns out, not everyone can hold their Brugal.
I’m a tom-girl, I am. If I have to carry something to the club for phone, money, keys and lipstick… it’s a SMALL clutch. The ladies I’m with are carrying what looks like fancy diaper bags. We land a chair, and I put my clutch under all the adult diaper bags, and we partied. But low and behold, our newly acquired amigas are starting to get hit by the rum. Back and forth in bags, one and off with shoes. We end the night with the club lights coming on, and glistening with sweat. But low and behold, my clutch is gone; along with my house keys, my phone, my money and ATM cards. My dog is home, and I can’t feed him… I’ve officially started to panic.
Now remember, this is near my birthday, so I’m an adult. In between the tears, I cancelled my cards, emailed my bosses saying was robbed and couldn’t get in my house, informed my mom, and during my friends did some local scouting to see if can find. No luck. So, I headed to a friends house, and continued on my path of adulthood. I log on her computer, and began to change passwords.. cause you know how SmartPhones are connected to everything, passwords included. But while I’m there is dawns on me… I always have the “Find my Phone” option on. And I know, you know, what’s next. I log in. And guess what? I find my phone. It’s in the Barrio Chino (China Town).
At 5am, with this small glimmer of hope, my 120 lbs, blond, athletic, white (female) friend is like, “let’s go!” She puts on some running shorts, running shoes, grabs her roommate’s car keys, her mace and grabs a kitchen knife (like a steak knife). We are getting my phone back.
I log my account in on my friend’s phone, and we commence to follow the GPS. First, we thought it was in the park. So, in between park benches with drunks, dope heads and the homeless, we were searching for my phone or at least a card (since not really usable), or any hint of my clutch. No luck. Then.. ping! We see the dot move. We’re close, but no cigar. Therefore, we continued searching, heads down, following the dot. Well, thank God for the white girl! Cause two policemen rolled up on their moto- conchos (motor bike but not quite motorcycles) as we were beginning to tread down a sketchy ally. They begin to assist.
They ask us… well, her, what we were doing, in a sketchy ally, in China Town, at 5 o’clock the morning. And she told them that my phone, was literally behind the next gate, and we were ready… with our pepper spray and kitchen knife. And as our location and my phone’s dots become aligned, there comes a Haitian with a machete… he is clearly not pleased about being approached by two random females and the police. Thus, the questioning begins. [These have been translated from Spanish]
“Were you at Onno’s tonight?”
“Did you pick up a bag or see a yellow phone?”
“It’s my yellow phone. *tears start* My house keys were in that bag. I have a dog at home. Can I have it back?”
“I only have the phone.”
“Can I please have it?”
“What are you going to give me?”
“It’s my phone! And we just said my bag was stolen with all my money and I can’t even get into my house for more, cause my keys are gone too!” *tears are streaming*
~~ police step in~~
They decide to help the crying morena (brown girl) and her cute blankita (blond girl), friend in shorts. They pulled him aside and strike up a deal. The Haitian man, with his machete… goes back into the alley, and returns with a full, small, black, trash bag. As he opens the trash bag, and sets off looking for my phone, we realize he is searching through a bag of money. WTF?! And our eye contact confirmed we were both thinking, “what kind of deal did he strike up with the police, when they are literally watching him, WITH HIS MACHETE, dig through a small garbage bag full of cash, in a sketchy, dark alley in China Town at 5am?”
Eventually, I got my phone back. And after logging in with the screen password, and showing them all pictures of me and my awesome pug, the man with the machete, switched to just having the bag of cash, and disappears up the block. Thus we are alone with the police… and since their job is done, they take the opportunity to flirt and hit on the blankita, with the running shorts, the kitchen knife, and key-chain can of mace.
Dudes… It’s like 5:30 in the morning and the sun is beginning to peek over the horizon. Therefore, we smile and say thank you, and walk briskly back to the car. We wave good bye to the drunk, and nod hello to a morning runner… and we head “home.” We retire the kitchen knife to it’s drawer, the mace to the proper key-chain, and our bodies to the respective beds. Never found my keys (thank goodness my school had, like, 3 sets of extras), but IDK, recovering my phone was a great defeat. I mean, bank cards are easily replaced, my school had copies of keys, but pictures and numbers and notes aren’t really replaceable… In lieu of that, now everything is automatically backed – up to cloud, and the “find my phone:” feature is forever turned on. On every device.