After finishing up with a client this afternoon on the Upper East Side I took a stroll down Third Avenue. I needed to to buy a dress for a party this weekend, but I was feeling light headed and decided to stop into the Starbucks on 66th Street and Third Avenue for some refreshments before hitting the shops.
I grabbed an iced coffee and a sandwich and was thankful that I found a seat in the very crowded cafe. I finished in 15 minutes and then went to grab the bus -- which is when I noticed my wallet was no longer in my bag. Egads!
It wasn't just a wallet. It was actually a red Coach wristlet/clutch that was a gift, and one that I very much liked. I don't usually carry cash, but the thief got $200 off me. I went to a Christening this weekend and in my haste to get on the train to Connecticut, I forgot a gift. After Starbucks I was en route to Hallmark to get a card to send one of those hundred dollar bills off. Sorry, Laura! Reagen will get her gift soon enough! They also got my driver's license, my real estate license, an unlimited Metro Card that I bought this afternoon, a bunch of receipts that I needed to expense and my New York Junior League membership card. Now I can't buy drinks in the Pine Room!
Earlier in the day my passport had been in there as well, but I took it out before meeting the client. Praise Allah.
The irony is that I have lived in Manhattan for eleven years. I have never been mugged. I have walked home alone at every hour of the night -- often full of drink -- and I have never had a problem. I went out on dates with men that I met online long before it was considered a good idea to do such a thing -- and I never had a problem. My general absence of fear is well documented, and often lauded among my friends.
And yet I got my wallet stolen right out from under me on 66th Street and Third Avenue, a safe block if there ever was one.
That said, I must offer a great big middle finger to the thief who stole my wallet. May explosive diarrhea find you early and often.
Also to the barista who, when I came back in clearly flustered after realizing my wallet was gone, told me not to call the police, because "It's not Starbuck's fault." Again with the diarrhea.
Interestingly, while filing the police report at the 19th Precinct, just a block away, the detective told me this was the second Starbucks pick pocketing on the Upper East Side in a week. The other was on 84th Street and Third. As I left, I thanked him for his help, and I suggested that his crew stay out of that Starbucks. There are thieves among us!
"That's why you go to Dunkin' Donuts, kid," he said. Cops rock.