An Open Letter...

Dear Purse Thief,

I’m writing this letter for two reasons. One, there is a very good chance you might read it. Once you look through my belongings and type my name in Google, this blog will come up as the second entry. (Yes, I google myself. Don’t judge.) Second, I feel the need to vent and my doing so here just may prevent the next person from being careless with their belongings and ending up in my same predicament. I would like to start off by saying that I am very angry with you. You ruined a perfectly good evening out with friends and colleagues. I was having a fantastic time until you decided it would be a good idea to take what wasn’t yours and leave me high and dry. Let’s take inventory on the stuff you walked away with.

First is the purse itself. Thank God I left my Michael Kors back in the hotel room! I have no idea if you’re a man or a women but you definitely got nothing in the handbag department as that little clutch can be replaced without breaking the bank. I breathed a sigh of relief on that one. But I’m guessing that’s not really what you were after anyway.

The cold hard cash. Bummer for you, as it was less than $50 bucks, but bigger bummer for me as it was the only cash I had and I was stuck all the way in Indianapolis for 3 more days. Something told me not to even bother bringing cash as I would be surrounded by plenty of male friends, but I stuck it in there anyway at the last minute. You made me beg and plead for each cup of Starbucks coffee and meal I needed to consume for the remainder of the conference.

Driver’s License. In case you were wondering, it’s not my current address but you live in Indy so I would assume you aren’t planning to visit anyway. It’s been less than a year since I lost my last one but I suppose it’s not that big a deal unless I’m forced to visit the DMV in person. What really makes my blood boil is that shiny highway patrol sticker I have on there and one can only hope that their kind, caring uncle reads this and finds it in his heart to replace that.

Credit Cards. I have no idea what you were trying to purchase at Wal-Mart for $400 dollars, but you probably didn’t realize I make a living being speedy, so I had those cards canceled before you even thought of all the cool things you could buy on my dime.

Passport. The good news is it wasn’t mine but the bad news is it wasn’t mine and so I had to feel extra guilty for losing a friends passport, not to mention only form of identification. I suppose this frees me from being asked in the future to carry belongings for other people in my purse so that their pockets aren’t bulging, but in the meantime I have to also deal with someone else’s disappointment while dealing with my own. Not good.

Blackberry. A good businessman might realize that people will pay you not to steal their blackberry. I tried calling all the people you called on my phone before I turned it off to have them relay that message to you, but to no avail. And let’s talk about that for a second, shall we? You’re a dumb thief. Obviously I can easily look up phone activity and see the numbers you’ve called. I even think the older gentleman I got a hold of was willing to help me out, he just couldn’t remember who it had been on the phone from that phone number by the time I called him. He even tried calling it again to see who answered but by that time I had shut the phone down so you got lucky there. I now see the importance of keeping your phone locked, even if you don’t have a nosey significant other who might want to snoop. A blackberry contains far too much personal information that you may or may not be interested in. Luckily for me, you won’t be able to run to the tabloids with the pictures I have stored, but that doesn’t make me feel any less violated.

So basically, you suck. I learned a valuable lesson and will never again make it that easy for a punk like you to disrupt my life like that. But the offer still stands… I will pay you to give my Blackberry back. No questions asked.