Mugged on a Monday

A week ago today a large fat man squashed me against the cash machine outside a nearby mini-Sainsbury’s in Chalk Farm and tried to nab my bank card.  Not sure what I said to him, I was shaken, but hopefully something stronger than “Get off me, fat crim!” before I elbowed him off me.  Luckily he wasn’t an expert mugger, and he didn’t get my card. Went into Sainsbury’s followed by a young man and an older woman.  “Are you all right?” asked the young man.  “I’ve been watching that man, and you’re the third person he’s hassled.”  Before I could ask him why he hadn’t called the cops, the older woman gripped me tightly, also saying “Are you all right?” – and I swear she tried to get into my handbag before I shook her off.  By this time I was suspicious of everyone.  Sainsbury’s staff refused to call the cops.  “We’ve been told by Head Office we mustn’t get involved – it’s up to you to call them.”  This despite the ‘Sainsbury’s Bank’ sign above the cashpoint, and the fact that they (should) have CCTV of the incident.  I felt my card had been compromised, and cancelled it.  A couple of days later after calling 101, I found two burly and seedy characters lurking in my front yard.  After checking their police ID I let them in and told them what had happened. The largest of the two tutted sympathetically, “Cashpoints on the street?  Never use ’em.  Far too dangerous.”