"You Get Your Shit Took."

I was walking home from my friends' house tonight, as I often do, when I heard a voice behind me and turned to see who it was. It was a man with a gun.
"What do you have in your pockets?" he asked.
So I started to get things out of my pockets, but he was impatient.
"Give me your wallet," he said.
I fumbled with this, so he stuck the gun in my face to make sure I would do it. I did.
"Get down on the ground," he told me.
"Okay!" I said, hoping not to get shot.
"Stay there, don't get up," he said. I did not get up.
When he was gone, I went down the street, and stopped at some strangers' porch to breath and tell them about being mugged. They were really nice about it, and when I called the cops roughly the entire Richmond police department showed up. They had dogs and everything. I told a lot of people what had happened, and they all agreed that I had not called soon enough, and that my ability to describe the mugger was poor. Then I went home and started worrying about credit fraud.