…“Where’s my wallet?”
You know that sickening feeling you get when your wallet is missing. Did you leave it at the last store when you opened it for your debit card, your arms laden with stuff, you were running late? Did you drop it somewhere? Think! Think! Think! Your entire life is in that wallet: drivers’ license, health card, credit cards…but thankfully not much cash. The money isn’t important anyway…it’s those cards!
Now imagine when that happens away from home.
Three times I have suffered the wallet disappearing act. Three times I’ve had to start my life all over again. And each time I tell myself, never again. My purse/wallet will never leave my sight!
The streets were crowded: colourful and exciting. Along a stone walled building a local artist was exhibiting his work. We stopped. One of his paintings grabbed our attention. I remember leaning towards it for further study. That’s when I felt a slight jostle, readjusted my purse shoulder straps, and carried on.
Only when we got back to the hotel did I discover the neat slit (by a very sharp knife) in the middle compartment where my wallet had been. Disbelief was followed by horror was followed by oh no! Cancellation of credit cards…phone calls back home…and on and on.
Once we got to our hotel, surprise! I couldn’t find my wallet. The fallout from this robbery was worse. On a hotel phone call to my Canadian bank I waited, fuming, for 30 minutes while my call to Canada was redirected to a call centre in southeast Asia because of the time difference they said. This made no sense to me and even a later verbal and written complaint to the bank for this treatment elicited no response.
When we left the counter, my purse was gone. Horrified, I contacted airport security who blithely commented this type of theft happened at least ten times a day. They suggested I could search nearby trash bins but probably, they comforted, the professional thieves were far away by now. Since my wallet contained company, as well as personal credit cards, my life became a desperate merry-go-round of panic phone calls.
So, no matter where I am, when I hear someone say…where’s my wallet?....
I shudder sympathetically.