So it started off a pretty normal night. 1st party then 2ND party then home. 1st party was a birthday dinner for T.V's April Matson at Cafe des Artistes in Hollywood. After an amazing four hour dinner of basking in April's birthday radiance, Matt Dallas and I went to meet our friends Jonathan and Brett at the Flaunt Magazine party downtown. This is 2ND party. 2ND party was a lot of fun. Dancing, running into friends of yesteryear. After all the jubilation it was time for bed.
I made it into my garage and realized that Bella, my dog/daughter, was at my friend Pierre's house. I knew she hadn't eaten and I would have to bring her food in the morning, and mornings can be cruel so I decided to text Pierre "are you awake?" I knew he was because Pierre is a diligent student and always working on models. He's going to a famous architect. Anywho y'all, I went up, grabbed Bella's food, my bag with my laptop and drove over to his apartment in a nice area of Los Feliz. I've done this a dozen times. I found parking close to his place. Pierre came down the stairs to let me in, and as he walked towards me I realized he was looking past me so I turned my head and saw two thug looking guys walking up behind me. One guy walked past me and up to Pierre. Pierre's first instinct was to put up his hands and say "I don't have anything on me" and the thug said "You better get the fuck out of here." Pierre turned around and walked briskly past his own apartment so not to lead them there. They were both now focused on me. One of them had a gun and shoved it in my side and said "Give me all your shit, bag, car keys". Then one noticed my necklace and riped it off of my neck. Y'all it was my treasured signature vintage Italian horn. Then they took my bracelet but it was still not enough and they asked for my wallet. At that point I said "everything is in my bag" they both went for the bag, that's when I walked away. I quickly walked past Pierre's because his younger sister was in the apartment and we wanted to avoid having them find the house. I turned into an apartment parking lot and walked to the last car in the carport and hid behind it. I truly believe they didn't plan on letting me go and my instinct told me its not over yet. I was right. One of them followed me into the carport. I was shocked that managed to hold on to my phone. I dialed 911 and just like in the movies my phone didn't get reception. It had one bar but wouldn't let me dial out. At this point I had no idea where Pierre had gone. I started to text. "Just got robbed call 911 Avocado and Hillhurst, hiding" I copied and pasted because I could here one of them near so I was scared to push the phone buttons and I did set the phone on silent. I got no response. Then I got a phone call. It was my friend Char and she said, "Are you OK?" I whispered "No, can't talk, the killer is here," hung up and texted, "Call 911," not knowing if, what I now started to refer to as the "killer," was still around. Then I texted Pierre "where are you?" No response. Pierre didn't get my text but his sister did. She was confused that I texted "Where are you?" So she texted, "Is Pierre with you?" and I texted back "Call 911" She responded "What why?" I responded, "Just got robbed." She responded with, "Are you playing?" Me, "No!!! Lock the door!" Her, "It is locked. I'm going to start crying! What's going on! Me, "Did you call 911!" Her, "the cops are outside."
At this point my leg started to fall asleep and I wasn't exactly sure if they were outside. Although I had heard siren's far away, they were turned off so I had thought that it was for a different distress call. I slowly got up and scooted along the wall and walked around the apartment building and slowly crept up to the front and was relived to see a female officer standing in front of Pierre's apartment. I shouted "Hey!" she turned and flashed me and said, "You the one who called the police?" I said, "yes".
I won't bore you with all the questions that came next but I did tell them my friend is still out there hiding so the the male officer went to look. I was going over what happened with his partner after about five minutes she heard her partner walking back so she flashed her light. They do that a lot. The flashing thing. I took a closer look and realized it wasn't Pierre that was walking with him. It was the "killer". I was shocked! The cop brought him up to me and asked if it was the guy. I was still shocked that he caught him. I hesitated and then responded "yes". "This is the guy?" the police officer yelled. I looked into his eyes and, in the way the "killer" in movies do, he slowly shook his head in that silent and threatening way as if to warn me more bad things could happen. I didn't care . I said again, "Yes that's him". The cop told the "killer", "You really fucked up." The "killer" said, "I was just going to a friend's house down the street." Right. I asked the officer where he found him . He said, "Just about four apartments down, with his shirt off." I'm sure he was trying to change his look. I went back upstairs to talk to his partner and finish my report. Pierre was still MIA. Then his phone went off. A women calling for Liz, Pierre's sister. I said she's on the phone with her parents. She asked who I was. I said Markus. She asked, "Are the police there?" I said yes. Then I heard her say to Pierre, "The police are there its probably safe to go home." He came running down the street barefoot. Loosing his sandals during the get away. He had yard hopped, scaled walls, knocked on doors trying to get people to call the police. The whole bit.
After hours of investigation the police assured us they would follow up, that we should too, and that we are very lucky that things turned out they way they did. We think so too. We both believe we weren't meant to be let go but by some Divine intervention we made it out without a scratch. Well I did . Pierre was a little beat up from the Spiderman wall scaling. Very hero-esque! So we are ok. Just a little shaken up and hoping the gangsters don't come looking for us. So the blogging will live on! You're welcome.
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