My Encounters With Pickpockets (1)

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Have you noticed the plural in my title? Sadly, I have to use it as I've encountered four in my life: I can divide the pickpocketing incidents into two groups. The first comprises the ones in which I was stupider than the police permit (as the Germans say). I practically invited the pickpockets to put their hands into my rucksack. Generally speaking, I'm not stupid, but when you read my account, you'll think that I am - or at least was in the respective situation. I'm still ashamed. --- My husband and I visited Lisbon. We went to Belem, a must-see part of the city, by tram. I love trams. As taxis aren't expensive in Portugal, I should have suppressed my love for trams and we should have taken a taxi. I had my rucksack on my back. The tram was packed full of Portuguese and tourists. I felt safe because I thought (if I thought something at all that is) that the many people would watch each other so-to-speak. If someone put their hands into someone else's handbag or rucksack, they'd surely cry out. What I didn't consider, however, was that pickpockets usually work in groups and the many friendly people around me probably all belonged to the same gang. My purse wasn't stolen, but my camera was. I didn't only lose the gadget but also the photos on it which I had taken during our stay. I could have bitten my back bottom. --- I visited a friend in Rome. One day I took a bus to the tourist attractions in the centre. Everybody knows that the bus lines running there are the working place of pickpockets. I didn't have my rucksack on my back, but I didn't have it on my chest, either. It was too heavy to carry it that way even for a short time. I put it on the floor between my legs. I needed both my hands to hold tight to the straps so that I wouldn't fall or sail diagonally through the bus. I'm convinced that Roman bus drivers work together with the pickpockets. They drive like mad. The centre of Rome is mainly flat, but they start, accelerate and stop as if they were driving on a mountain road. One is so concentrated on keeping upright that one can't also watch one's luggage. I know who put their hand into my rucksack and stole my purse. I realised it later when I recapitulated the scene. It was a gipsy woman who entered the bus through the middle door which is meant only for exiting. She had a bundle in her arms which was made up as if a baby was in it, but it was probably only the loot she had already accumulated. She sat down on the steps and was thusly on the same level as my rucksack. My purse contained money, not too much but more than I liked to lose and my passport. My friend's husband, ever an optimist, went to a police station with me to report the theft. He was sure that I wouldn't get my money back but maybe someone would find the purse with the passport in a bin and take it to a police station. No such luck, though. Another imaginary bite into my back bottom. Have you also been pickpocketed due to your own stupidity? Don't tell me that you're too smart for that. You were only lucky! You can never win against the masters of the trade.