I got robbed on Saturday night. I think that's what happened anyway.
Whatever happened, I lost my purse. All my cards, my U.S. driver's license, money, British debit card (with husband in Brazil and me not on the account yet), the whole shebang.
Cried for about an hour.
Could hardly handle it, if truth be told. I mean, it hasn't been that long since I had my Mac stolen in Italy. And my son had his wallet stolen in Barcelona.
Anyhoo.
I was on the platform at my tube stop at about 6 p.m., heading to my London friend's house for dinner. In a good mood.
Looking forward to the evening; had had a good time at the Christmas party I told you about the night before.
Sitting on the platform, waiting for the train.
Had my purse with me, my umbrella, a lemon tart I was bringing (bought at Marks & Spencer's Food, which is quite good), and a magazine to read in a bag.
When I got onto the train, I had everything except my purse.
I noticed immediately, within seconds of getting on the train.
Did I leave it on the platform? Or did someone swipe it from me while I slipped it off my shoulder for a few minutes, waiting for the train?
Don't know for sure, but think the latter.
I got off at the next stop and ran to the office at the station and told them. They called back to my station and had someone go look for my bag on the platform, i.e. about five minutes after I had left.
Nothing.
I went back to my stop and ran up to the platform.
People were sitting at every seat. Nothing underneath the bench.
Started crying.
Had nothing.
No money, no Oyster card (to get out of the train), no phone, no house keys, everything gone.
Stood there crying for awhile, trying to figure out what to do, how to get into my house, how to contact my friend to tell her I wasn't coming, how to support me and my son until my husband gets home in 10 days with no money or cards.
My husband and I had gone to his bank to put me on his account just two weeks ago. We had just gotten around to making it a joint account, but it just hit me, while standing there crying, that nothing had come in the mail yet about it. And it should have.
I had his debit card, he's gone, so I hadn't really thought about it.
Until now.
Thankfully, my son was only about a half-hour walk away, seeing a movie not that far from our house. (He could've been anywhere in London). And he had his keys, and £40 I had given him that day.
So I ran to the movies to get the keys -- and some money.
Walked all the way there and all the way home (an hour) in the drizzle, without putting my umbrella up.
Too busy feeling sorry for myself to care about getting wet.
Pretty drenched by the time I got home. And still upset.
Called my friend and cried to her for a few minutes.
While we were talking, someone called her on her cell.
They had found my phone lying on the floor of a train (nowhere near where I had been) and were calling the last person I had texted. Which was her.
So I got my phone back.
Yey!
Spent an hour at the bank this morning trying to sort everything out. Got a friendly guy who took pity on me.
Helped me re-file the application for the joint account (which technically he shouldn't have, since my husband isn't here). It had gotten held up because of some silly thing.
Sent out a replacement card to my home address, which I should get in a few days, even though I wasn't officially on the account yet, and my husband, who's the account holder, is literally in the Amazon jungle. They wouldn't do that when I reported it lost on Saturday.
So hopefully, this week, I'll have a new debit card so I can access the account.
Sometimes I wonder if I can keep writing to you.
Don't mothers say that if you can't say anything good, you shouldn't say anything at all?
(My mother never said that. She was Italian. Italians don't agree with the above statement).
But I bet Brits do.
Anyway, I would like to just tell you nice things, make you laugh, entertain you.
But shit just keeps happening to me.
Is it my fault?
Bad karma?
Showing posts with label Robbery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Robbery. Show all posts
Monday, 7 December 2009
Monday, 24 August 2009
A (Romanian?) Gang of Thieves
One step forward, two steps back. And all because of a gang of thieves.
A Romanian gang, according to the carabinieri paramilitary police who came to my house afterwards.
Got burgled on my side of the hill on Friday night, just before dawn, while I was asleep by myself in the house. The day I was leaving to come back to London.
Horrible. And right when I was starting to feel at home there.
The carabinieri think three or four guys, probably Romanians (it was striking they just speculated about their nationality like that. Isn't that racial profiling?) came quickly into my house by breaking a lock on the front terrace door. They stole my new Mac, my digital camera and a couple hundred Euros and pounds.
It wasn't so much what I lost, even though I cried plenty over the pictures I had in both my computer and my camera, pictures of my sons mostly. And I miss my lap-top, i.e. lifeline to the outside world, hugely (is that pathetic?).
What was really hard to take, though, was the fact that a gang of men broke into my house while I was there alone in my nightgown in bed in the next room (I wasn't sleeping upstairs in our room, like I normally do, because it was too hot).
The carabinieri said it was much better that I didn't wake up. I heard Nero barking at some point, but just turned over and went back to sleep. He's always barking -- a classic case of a crying wolf you don't heed.
A neighbor down my hill said that last year, he surprised four hooded guys -- one a Romanian he thought he recognized from the town -- in his house one night when he came home just before midnight. They had a gun, he said, although it could have been a toy. They fled when he arrived.
Robberies are pretty commonplace in Italy. Almost everyone has their story.
After I discovered the burglary in the morning, I went shaken, crying to see my next door neighbor, an elderly Italian man, who's also my caretaker. He kept saying it must've been someone who knew my movements, since it happened the day I was leaving. I thought so too, although the thought terrified me.
The carabinieri insisted it almost certainly wasn't. Two other local villas were also burgled that night, they said. The robbers' modus operandi was typical of how they do it. Although they took my lap-top, they removed the wireless Internet key, which can be used to trace the computer. They took all my cash, but thankfully left my wallet and passport, which is what they do, the carabinieri said. A quick little job. Over in less than five minutes.
It could've been so much worse, I know. I could've been hurt. I could've been traumatized by the sight of four hooded men in my living room, not an image easily discarded. I could've lost my entire wallet, with all my cards and I.Ds, which is a huge hassle.
And it was actually good that I was leaving that day, so I didn't have to spend the night there alone right afterwards. I was with my husband in our bed here in London instead. I'm grateful for that.
And I'm going to be here at least a couple weeks now, so time will ease the shock of the robbery.
But I am planning on going back alone, before my husband can take more vacation. And I was certainly planning to be there alone for extended periods of time.
Hopefully, a gang of thieves won't also rob me of the progress I've made.
A Romanian gang, according to the carabinieri paramilitary police who came to my house afterwards.
Got burgled on my side of the hill on Friday night, just before dawn, while I was asleep by myself in the house. The day I was leaving to come back to London.
Horrible. And right when I was starting to feel at home there.
The carabinieri think three or four guys, probably Romanians (it was striking they just speculated about their nationality like that. Isn't that racial profiling?) came quickly into my house by breaking a lock on the front terrace door. They stole my new Mac, my digital camera and a couple hundred Euros and pounds.
It wasn't so much what I lost, even though I cried plenty over the pictures I had in both my computer and my camera, pictures of my sons mostly. And I miss my lap-top, i.e. lifeline to the outside world, hugely (is that pathetic?).
What was really hard to take, though, was the fact that a gang of men broke into my house while I was there alone in my nightgown in bed in the next room (I wasn't sleeping upstairs in our room, like I normally do, because it was too hot).
The carabinieri said it was much better that I didn't wake up. I heard Nero barking at some point, but just turned over and went back to sleep. He's always barking -- a classic case of a crying wolf you don't heed.
A neighbor down my hill said that last year, he surprised four hooded guys -- one a Romanian he thought he recognized from the town -- in his house one night when he came home just before midnight. They had a gun, he said, although it could have been a toy. They fled when he arrived.
Robberies are pretty commonplace in Italy. Almost everyone has their story.
After I discovered the burglary in the morning, I went shaken, crying to see my next door neighbor, an elderly Italian man, who's also my caretaker. He kept saying it must've been someone who knew my movements, since it happened the day I was leaving. I thought so too, although the thought terrified me.
The carabinieri insisted it almost certainly wasn't. Two other local villas were also burgled that night, they said. The robbers' modus operandi was typical of how they do it. Although they took my lap-top, they removed the wireless Internet key, which can be used to trace the computer. They took all my cash, but thankfully left my wallet and passport, which is what they do, the carabinieri said. A quick little job. Over in less than five minutes.
It could've been so much worse, I know. I could've been hurt. I could've been traumatized by the sight of four hooded men in my living room, not an image easily discarded. I could've lost my entire wallet, with all my cards and I.Ds, which is a huge hassle.
And it was actually good that I was leaving that day, so I didn't have to spend the night there alone right afterwards. I was with my husband in our bed here in London instead. I'm grateful for that.
And I'm going to be here at least a couple weeks now, so time will ease the shock of the robbery.
But I am planning on going back alone, before my husband can take more vacation. And I was certainly planning to be there alone for extended periods of time.
Hopefully, a gang of thieves won't also rob me of the progress I've made.
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