The mystery of the mesmeric muggers
Holy hypnotists, Batman, are we in the middle of a crime wave?
We know there are criminals afoot in our clammy city — pickpockets, bag-slashers, muggers, carjackers, the “small-time” (although they are said to belong to crime syndicates) criminals as opposed to the large-scale operators who need to get elected into office first. The problem is not unique to Metro Manila — it’s supposed to be worse in other big cities — but we live here.
So we take precautions. In restaurants we never hang our bag on the back of a chair so a thief can casually walk out with it. It sits next to us where we can keep a constant eye on it, or hangs from a hook under the table. When walking outside we make sure our bags are zipped, not left open for a thief to pluck out our wallets. In certain areas we wear our knapsacks in front. When going home late at night, we ask our friends to take down the license numbers of the taxi. We adapt.
But what if the problem evolves?
In the last few months my friends’ apartment was broken into, another friend’s wallet was plucked out of her bag as she strolled through the mall and last Tuesday a friend of mine was robbed at gunpoint. This last incident was particularly horrendous because it may have involved hypnotism.
My friend DB had just come out of the Kylie Minogue concert at Araneta Coliseum. He was in a good mood as he walked to Farmer’s Market to catch a ride home (he couldn’t drive that day, the car was coded). It was late, the shops had closed, the only store that had its lights on was a Jollibee on the corner. Suddenly a man walked up to DB, put his arm around DB’s shoulders and shoved a gun into DB’s side. He warned DB not to move or scream or he would shoot.
Here’s the strange part: DB, who will flay you alive if you point a finger at him, found himself obeying whatever the mugger said. It was not simply that he was in shock; he had no will to resist. He was not himself — he can barely remember what happened next. It was as if he had been hypnotized.
This would sound ludicrous if we hadn’t been hearing reports of muggers using mesmerism for years. They approach the victim, talk, and the next thing the victim knows she’s emptied her ATM account and handed over the cash to a total stranger.
DB can only vaguely recall a long bus ride, and then a jeep ride to a distant subdivision somewhere north. The whole time he was in some kind of zombie state, passive, meek, in other words, Not DB At All.
The next thing DB remembers, he was standing on a dark street with three men in front of him. Someone was pressing a gun to his forehead and asking for the PIN on his ATM card.
And suddenly DB snapped back to life. It was as if he’d been jolted out of a deep sleep. I imagine his first thoughts were, “Is that a gun against my forehead??” then “You do not point a gun at me, bitch!!”
DB grabbed the gun, wrenched it out of the mugger’s hand and threw it away. Then he did exactly what policemen advise us not to do when accosted by armed robbers. He fought them. And while he was kicking and punching whoever was in range, he was yelling his lungs out.
The lights came on in the houses nearby, but no one came out to help him. DB made such a ruckus that two of the muggers ran away. Maybe the perps expected their victims to surrender peaceably and it was their turn to be shocked. The third one was holding DB’s bag — DB tried to grab it but the mugger got away.
DB was unharmed, just really, really freaked out. He called out for help. Finally someone came out to see what the trouble was. The barangay tanod were summoned and the crime reported. At 5 a.m. they put DB in a taxi and sent him home.
“Why did you that?” we asked DB. “In the event of a robbery you’re supposed to hand over your valuables so they’ll go away and leave you in peace. Objects can be replaced. At least you would be safe.”
“I know,” DB said. “But I felt that they were going to kill me anyway even if they had my bag. I decided right there that I wasn’t going to die without a fight.”
What we want to know is why the mugger bothered to bring DB all the way to a sparsely-populated area, which required taking a bus then a jeep, when he could’ve just taken DB’s bag in Cubao and run off.
We’re just glad DB is safe and unhurt. The scary part is that this wasn’t an isolated incident. When we hear about crime in this city we react with horror, then we shrug and forget about it. Everyday perils, right? Until it happens to someone we know. What is going on?
