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ysobelleLOST: Black Bag w/ Costume, 20th & South, corset, dresses, belts, silv knife, 555-1212
The guy who called Monday night told me he'd tried the dress on and it didn't fit. I was pretty sure at that point he was an asshole. When he asked me if anyone had ever eaten mine, I was sure of it.
Tonight, just about 3/4 of the way through Angel, some guy calls. Joe, he says. Joe tells me he, too, has found my bag. At first, I'm so excited. He mentions stuff in the bag, and I think, "No, I didn't list that in my classified!" Joe says, "What are you, an actress?" I reply that I'm a costumer. I ask him what else is in the bag. "Some strange stuff, I don't know. Some satin, some...lingerie. I dunno what this stuff is. I don't wanna go through it all."
He insist that I come to meet him. At his "friend's" house. Alone.
I tell him I'll have to see if I can come out, that I'm waiting for someone. He says he'll call me back in half an hour, and refuses to give me his number. Of course, I'm immediately on the phone to Detective Lucke. He promises to go with me. Thanking him, I hang up, and wait for "Joe" to call back. When he does, I ask him a few more questions. I ask if there's a book in the bag, a book with a red leather cover. At first, he says no, but then he says there are a lot of compartments in the bag, right? Yeah, there's probably a book in there. Again he insists that I come alone, that anyone I bring could have a gun and could rip him off. I explain that there's no way a woman is going to come out to a stranger's house alone in the middle of the night. His reply? "It's only 10.30!"
"Describe the knife."
"What?"
"I want to know you have my things. I've been jerked around a lot. Describe the knife."
"It's...I dunno, a silver knife. It's a folding prop knife. It ain't got no sheath or nothing."
We agree to meet at 18th and Jackson, then 18th and Wolf. I call my parents, and wish to G-d I knew where the hell my boyfriend is, as I could seriously use a shoulder. I've left three messages, and all I want to do is cry.
Detective Lucke has called again. No dice. He had a female detective on the corner waiting, to no avail. He says this guy may well call back, if he wasn't spooked. He described the detective to me, and I'm to pretend I'm she, should "Joe" call me again. If he still wants to meet, it has to be after 5 tomorrow night.
Isn't this exciting?
Can you still trace someone's address through their phone number?
I wish my dog were bigger.
I wish I didn't feel so much like crying.
The guy who called Monday night told me he'd tried the dress on and it didn't fit. I was pretty sure at that point he was an asshole. When he asked me if anyone had ever eaten mine, I was sure of it.
Tonight, just about 3/4 of the way through Angel, some guy calls. Joe, he says. Joe tells me he, too, has found my bag. At first, I'm so excited. He mentions stuff in the bag, and I think, "No, I didn't list that in my classified!" Joe says, "What are you, an actress?" I reply that I'm a costumer. I ask him what else is in the bag. "Some strange stuff, I don't know. Some satin, some...lingerie. I dunno what this stuff is. I don't wanna go through it all."
He insist that I come to meet him. At his "friend's" house. Alone.
I tell him I'll have to see if I can come out, that I'm waiting for someone. He says he'll call me back in half an hour, and refuses to give me his number. Of course, I'm immediately on the phone to Detective Lucke. He promises to go with me. Thanking him, I hang up, and wait for "Joe" to call back. When he does, I ask him a few more questions. I ask if there's a book in the bag, a book with a red leather cover. At first, he says no, but then he says there are a lot of compartments in the bag, right? Yeah, there's probably a book in there. Again he insists that I come alone, that anyone I bring could have a gun and could rip him off. I explain that there's no way a woman is going to come out to a stranger's house alone in the middle of the night. His reply? "It's only 10.30!"
"Describe the knife."
"What?"
"I want to know you have my things. I've been jerked around a lot. Describe the knife."
"It's...I dunno, a silver knife. It's a folding prop knife. It ain't got no sheath or nothing."
We agree to meet at 18th and Jackson, then 18th and Wolf. I call my parents, and wish to G-d I knew where the hell my boyfriend is, as I could seriously use a shoulder. I've left three messages, and all I want to do is cry.
Detective Lucke has called again. No dice. He had a female detective on the corner waiting, to no avail. He says this guy may well call back, if he wasn't spooked. He described the detective to me, and I'm to pretend I'm she, should "Joe" call me again. If he still wants to meet, it has to be after 5 tomorrow night.
Isn't this exciting?
Can you still trace someone's address through their phone number?
I wish my dog were bigger.
I wish I didn't feel so much like crying.
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no subject
Date: 2003-10-30 05:30 am (UTC)Reverse Lookup (http://www.anywho.com/rl.html) (one among several)... and if you can do it on the web, wouldn't you HOPE the cops could do it?
no subject
Date: 2003-10-30 05:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-30 05:39 am (UTC)Be safe
Love
'Nise
no subject
Date: 2003-10-30 11:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-30 01:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-30 07:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-31 01:11 am (UTC)I wish there was something I could do.
Billy
no subject
Date: 2003-10-31 01:26 am (UTC)I'm a little less freaked out now. G-d bless Detective Lucke-- yes, he does take me seriously. He fingerprinted my car last week, though I have a feeling it was just cos he wanted to keep his skills up. And in case you're wondering, it's pronounced "Lucky."
No joke.