Many years ago, I was robbed in the street. I was walking down a dark street, against parked cars when, suddenly, a man slipped out of the car, pointed a gun at me and said, “Give me your wallet.” I looked immediately at his shoes (I didn’t want him thinking I was memorizing his face) and handed it over.
Of course, When I arrived home, I immediately informed the police of the incident. They responded by saying they would send over officers to take my statements. When the officers arrived, I let them into the apartment; there were two of them, the shorter of the two dwarfed my six foot height. It was he who asked if I’d called in the robbery. “Yes”, I said.
“You have any ID?”
“I was robbed on the street; I am the rob-bee; they took my wallet. You want to see my ID, go catch the rob-ber.”
I’ve often wondered if they laughed, later.