Robbed

Posted on 01 December 2005

What can I say? I am in Paris, my beloved Paris and I am angry. I had four hours sleep after more than 35 awake and still my mind and body won’t let me slip away and dream.

I stepped from the Roissybus, in front of the magnicent Opera building and within five minutes my wallet was gone – all my credit cards, debit cards, and cash. And to add to my anger, I was carrying more cash than I usually do. But I didn’t know immediately that the young woman who bumped against me, or rather my knapsack on my back had, in an instance, unzipped my bag and taken my fat little wallet.

I’m glad I didn’t know in the beginning because I wandered the street and found Cafe de la Paix where I was to meet Gill. I looked in the door and there she was – how confident, beautiful she looks, I thought, as she talked to the bartender. I went in and watched her for a minute. Gigi, I said. Gigi. Gigi. She continued talking to the Irish man (ah yes, they have infiltrated Paris)
and finally she heard me, saw me, and leaped up and gave me a big hug. She had a drink. I had a glass of wine. And we talked and laughed and then I reached in my bag to pay for the drinks and no wallet. I panicked, searched all my bags but it was really and truly gone. And every since I have been talking to myself, asking why, why, why, why did you take so much cash (300 euros), why did you carry all your visas… and so on and so on. But the good news was that I didn’t put the bank draft I brought for our French bank account in my wallet which I usually do.

I did call Brendan and Rob and the store who had my numbers and all is cancelled (though the thief, I think, had already spent 3000. And I have to try to get a driver’s license today for the car I am supposed to rent Monday. And Visa wants a police report so I will do that today too, after I try to access funds from our French account.

There is nothing I can do beyond these things and after I do them, I want to forget and enjoy this wonderful city with my daughter.


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