I never thought it would happen to me. That a guy such as myself, with my mediocre talents, limited vocabulary, "quality" used car and less than stellar grooming habits could ever find it. They say you can't force it. That it just sort of happens. That, much like one of Cupid's arrows, it'll hit you when you least expect it.

That's right. While I was in Seattle last week I encountered my first pickpocket. Eeeeeeeh! Oh my God! Oh my God! OMFG! Couldn't you just die? It's so exciting! So this is what's everybody's been telling me about all of these years.

I was walking back from the Elliot Bay Book Company when I wandered into Pike Street Market in search of a copy of The Stranger and a bag of doughnuts from the Daily Dozen. I bent down to pick up a paper and, out of nowhere, a guy bumped into me. I felt a hand reaching for a pocket (?), he hastily apologized and wished me a "good night" and then he quickly darted for the nearest exit. My messenger bag was zipped up tight and my wallet was in my front pocket so he didn't get away with anything.

Ok, so maybe he wasn't a pickpocket and maybe it was just an accident. Or maybe he was just a pervert that enjoys spending his Monday evenings groping random men dressed in Columbia Sportswear. So I ask you, dear blog reader: what was this dude up to? Opinions are welcome in the comment section below.

Labels: love and theft