Whenever you enter crowds in Bogotá, you have to be very careful of your belongings. I have had my wallet stolen once already, and I am determined to not ever let it happen again. I guess my determination wasn’t strong enough.
The main plaza, Plaza Bolivar, was having a festival on July 20 for Colombian Independence Day. Of course, this is a pick picketers paradise, something I was well aware of. Three months ago, I had my wallet stolen. You learn from your mistakes, and I was determined to make sure everything remained intact this time around. Instead of leaving my wallet in my pants, I put it in my jacket pocket, which would allow me to firmly button it down. For me to open it, it takes nearly twenty seconds. Surely… there is no way anyone can reach it. Damn… I was so naive.
This sad part is, I saw it coming. We were crammed into a huge crowd, and two guys were circling rapidly. They were pushing and making commotion. I felt something on my chest pocket, and looked down immediately. The button was still firmly locked, so I just thought it was my girlfriend trying to put something away. I look down five seconds later, and no joke, it was gone.
I seriously could not believe it. It takes me forever to get to my own damn wallet, and guys who just saw me as easy prey got to it in less than five seconds. Although I was and still am pissed, I do raise my glass to their skill level. Only a few dollars was lost, as well as a debit card. I cancelled the card instantly, so no lasting damage will be had.
Although still upset, I got to thinking about the good of the situation.
I no longer have a wallet. What does that mean exactly? Money is just thrown randomly into my bag, thus, I really don’t have to worry about anything being stolen out of my pockets. What is there to get now? My crappy cell phone that honestly I would thank someone if they took it from me? Less worrying about my possessions equals less stress. I can take that.
People take pity on me, thus the rounds are on them. Awww, Eric, you got your wallet stolen! How sad! Let me get the next nine beers. And, if for some reason I’m expected to pay… I respond with the following: “Oh crap, my wallet was stolen. Sorry man, but I don’t have any money on me.” Works every time.
Turns out, I can’t go that long without a wallet. I need something to organize my imaginary collection of important business cards. I hit the market earlier today to see what I can find, and I seriously could not believe how much luck I had. I was seeing name branded wallets everywhere, and after I told my story of getting robbed, they took pity on me and offered me a ridiculous deal. I settled on a Hugo Boss wallet that according to the clerk, it would normally run for a hundred dollars. She was nice enough to offer it to me for a fraction of the cost, and even threw in an extra discount because I was cute. In the end, I paid five dollars for a genuine Hugo Boss wallet. Can you believe that! The only problem I have with this is that some stupid factory worker misspelled Boss, and instead, it says Bosi. But it doesn’t matter. It was still made by Hugo Boss and I got it for a fraction of the price. Lucky me.
In the end, is it really that bad I got robbed?