by Ann Coulter
George Magazine, Aug 1999
About a year ago, a mugger just waltzed right up to me on a bridge here in Washington, D.C. It was early evening, and I was a stone's throw from my apartment in what is considered a nice neighborhood, as neighborhoods go in the Murder Capital -- the richly deserved nickname for the nation's capital.
I won't belabor my cunning and completely fortuitous escape, except to say that for the few minutes I was standing there waiting to be mugged, I was fuming. I knew he knew that I didn't have a gun.