Petty thievery

In the middle of our night out last night, I sent the following post to my blog:

Just in case you were wondering, Krave is the worst gay club in America.

But the text didn't get sent properly, and it never made it to Torqopia.

Later in the evening, a guy tried to steal my wallet from my back pocket. I caught him in the act. So on the positive side, I can at least say that Krave's security staff was helpful.

This is only the second time in my life that someone has tried to steal something from my person. When we were in Los Angeles in June, a drunk guy manueuvered his way into a seat at our table by purchasing us a couple of shots (he didn't realize I knew the waiter who just happened to be planning to give us the shots for free, yea, everyone wins!). But a few minutes later Victor noticed that my Burberry sunglasses were missing, and sure enough, I caught the guy red-handed with them.

Hmm. In two months I've had two incidents where someone had the audacity to grab something off of me. I've had my share of car break-ins, and my bicycle was stolen in the late 90's. But it's a different feeling when someone takes something from me, up close and personal. Strangely, it doesn't really feel threatening. It's more like shock. I mean, really! Come on!