Mueres?

At around 3:00 am last night (except a few weeks ago), a friend and I were walking along the river on the way home. A guy approached us, and kindly explained that he needed help; something was going on with his car (we did not understand his fast Spanish). He was being very nice, but we didn’t understand the problem so we turned to leave. In defeat, the man (mid-twenties, white, blond, small, cute) dropped his nice-guy act and tried to be scary. “Tengo una pistola,” he said, sticking his “gun” through his shirt. He turned to Daniel and yelled, “¡Dame dinero o mueres (give me money or you die)!” The situation got a lot less scary when he accidentally exposed his gun, which was actually a bright blue inhaler. Unfazed, he kept demanding money but reluctantly admitted defeat when I asked to see his gun. I was considering suggesting that he choose either the nice-and-needs-help routine or the scary-has-a-gun one for the future, because they didn’t mix well, but opted for getting the hell our of there instead. The important lesson learned was that bringing a guy along doesn’t automatically guarantee safety, and I’m glad that I got to learn this lesson through the least threatening mugger in the world.