I Got Stained Out, Hard

I was recently the victim of a drunk person who stole my wallet with the apparent idea that I ought to pay him to live. Whoever it was took my jacket from a bar, proceeded to another bar and spent 19 dollars. Then the next morning I got to have a lovely hung over conversation with a policeman to get back an empty wallet, bereft of even my school ID. Now, I also want people to pay me to live. I think I deserve it. But I never, ever, take the matter into my own hands and force other people to pay me to live. That $19 probably would've been spent on alcohol anyway, but this scumbag felt as if he deserved the drinks more than me. This opinion was, and continues to be, incorrect. I'm probably better at drinking than him, and I'm obviously better at living, since I'm not a rotten dirty thief, so he should probably be paying me to live, not the other way around.

The other awful thing is that in addition to using my credit card the piece of shit stained me out in a number of ways. He took the key to my bike lock, forcing me to purchase a hacksaw and a new lock and waste valuable energy sawing and cursing. He took my license, forcing me to get a new one, not to mention forcing me to look ridiculous by using my passport to buy alcohol. He took my school ID, forcing me to shell out $15 for a new one, which I wouldn't even need except my license will now be a duplicate, which is an immediate sign for bouncers to demand a second picture ID. He forced me to get a new bank card, and to go into debt to my roommates while I wait for it to come in the mail. He potentially forced me to commit aggravated assault, or even murder, because if I ever find out who he is that's exactly what will happen.

The point of all of this is that someone needs to pay me to live. I obviously have a hard life, and I'm only asking for credit where credit is due. Credit in the form of money.