Picked

Last week we were on the Metro with our friends Charlie and Ann who were visiting. We were wrapped up in a conversation when some sort of scuffle broke out next to Charlie, and he let out a, “Hey!”when he felt someone pushing into him. The train doors opened, out went the two young men next to us, and along with them all the cash in Charlie’s pocket. The whole thing was so quick and smooth that he wasn’t even sure he’d been pickpocketed until we were at the next stop when he’d completed a thorough inventory. Luckily he didn’t lose his phone, keys or documents, “just” €30. Bummer.

We’ve been going over and over it in an effort to learn what to do to prevent another thieving event. Don’t stand right near the train door, if possible. Thieves seem to choose targets close to the doors, time a little scuffle so that you are distracted for the moments right before the doors open, they nab your stuff and make their escape while you are on your way to the next station. Don’t carry valuables in your back pocket. Make sure purse zippers are closed. This sort of thing. Mainly: Beware.

We have been making plans for what to do in case we are targets again. Alex and I are talking about using a Jujitsu move, or maybe just a backhand whack. We’ll scream, “Thief!!” (We still need to look that up in Spanish.) We’ll chase those bad guys down the platform until they are forced to exit and pass the security guys who will catch them and throw them into jail. In our plans, we always win, the bad guys always get caught, and our posessions are never stolen.

So it was that we found ourselves a mere five days after Charlie got ripped off, on the train coming home from a lovely evening out. We had positioned ourselves defensively, as we now do, protecting our pockets, purses, etc.

And it turns out, Jack was positioned perfectly to catch a rat sticking his hands in someone else’s pocket. Same old routine, a couple of guys got on the train together, the first one faked a stall, blocking the victim, the pickpocketer bumped into the target and slipped his hand into the pocket and was about to grab his wallet when Jack yelled, “Hey!” Which, it turns out, worked this time (even though it isn’t Spanish).

The crook was stopped in the act. The target didn’t even know anything had happened. Jack followed him down the train to tell him to check his pocket. The wallet was still there, and he was grateful for the save (after a little confusion and quick translating by a bystander). Meanwhile, I was watching from across the train where the rat was still trapped in the moving train. I stared him down and was glad that I could at least make him nervous enough to keep his hands shaking until the little band of thieves escaped at the next station.

The other passengers were thoroughly confused by the whole event, as it was so quick and Jack’s eyewitness account was in unintelligible Spanish and was never public. In fact, I’d guess the would-be victim assumed Jack was part of the scheme when Jack approached him. Who knows what the train load full of people thought about us weird Americanos.

Of course, we’ve done hours of debriefing on this event, too. What should we have done? Chased them down and accused them? At least Jack saved one guy from a big headache. And we’re still on the lookout -- defending ourselves, our pockets, and maybe even someone else’s.

As our neighbor Angela in Virginia always told us, “Be safe. And be concerned.” (But I’m not going to do a Jujitsu move after all.)