Sunday, July 11, 2010

The Stolen Wallet Saga

I have had a rather exciting weekend, though not in the way I would have wished.

On Friday after some people came to buy my poor little purple ugly desk, I headed out to the library. This is the far away one that I had been meaning to get to all week because I had one book to take out so that I could get some work done this weekend. I motivated myself by looking forward to the lovely air conditioning. That motivating factor was dulled, though, when we experienced torrential downpours the entire bus ride there.

I got to the library, did some printing on the second floor, then proceeded to the third floor to get some work done. I set up my stuff, found the book I needed, organized my things, and made a quick trip to the bathroom. After about a half-hour of not getting very much done, and noticing a break in the rain, I figured I should just check out my book and go home before it started pouring again.

I packed up my stuff and realized that my wallet was not in its usual pocket, where I was sure I had put it (and zipped it closed) just 40 minutes before. I headed downstairs to the checkout counter, retracing all the places I had been on the off chance that I had forgotten my wallet at one of the computers or photocopy machines. I asked the security guy if anyone had turned in a tan Roots wallet, and when he said no, I headed back upstairs to check again.

As I was doubling back, Visa called to ask about some potentially fraudulent charges on my card. That's when I knew it had been stolen. Then I started to freak out.

Someone must have been watching me downstairs, saw me put away my wallet, then followed me upstairs and watched me head into the bathroom (where I spent absolutely no longer than 2 minutes) before unzipping my bag and taking my wallet out. By the time Visa caught them, they had charged $11 (four metro tickets) (sorry, but wtf?!) on my card at Vendome, then headed to Lionel-Groulx to try it again, which is when Visa shut off the card and called me.

Luckily, they only managed to charge that $11, and they got the $40 from my desk sale that was in there. But all of my IDs were in there too: Medicare, driver's license, bus pass, student ID, everything. There are no cameras anywhere on the library premises (again, please: wtf?!) so I don't know who the people were. I went to the metro station to try to check those cameras, to perhaps be able to see them have my card rejected at the ticket machine, and then perhaps throw the wallet in the trash. But only the police department has access to metro cameras, and they won't check unless Visa launches a fraud investigation. Those trashes are emptied a couple times a day, so if my wallet was in there it is no longer. I checked all the ones I could myself.

In the grand scheme of things, it's not much more than a major inconvenience. I'm travelling on Thursday, so I need to spend the next couple of already busy days running around and getting replacements and temporaries for all of my IDs. But the thieves didn't take my computer, I wasn't mugged, it wasn't my passport or something like that, and everything in the wallet, pretty much, is replaceable. But it was really scary being caught unawares like that and having to deal with it alone. I had no one to call to help me or advise me what to do or even to calm me down, and I couldn't even get a hold of anyone for a ride home (the security lady took pity on me when I was on the verge of tears, realizing that with no money and no metro pass, I was stuck very far away from where I live with no way to get back. She gave me the $2.75 so I could get home).

But this is part of growing up, I guess. I wanted to cry, I wanted to freak out, I wanted to sit down and have someone else take care of it, and I wanted someone to tell me it would be okay. But I'm alone here. I couldn't do any of that because I needed to take care of calling the police and the various companies to get this taken care of before they closed for the weekend. (Waiting for 25 minutes on hold with the credit union and then having my call rejected because it was now 4:30 and they were now closed for the weekend was particularly special, let me tell you.) And when I had done what I could considering the day and time, and had started to head home, I was proud of myself, in a way, that I was able to handle that so well. I didn't cry, I spoke to all the right people, I remembered everything that was in the wallet so that I could get everything replaced, and I made a day-by-day list of what I had to do in order to get everything settled as soon as possible. Of course once I got home I pouted a bunch and growled some and ate an ice cream sandwich and called my mom so she could commiserate with me, but at least I waited until I was home and had done all the important stuff. Tomorrow I have to spend all day running around and waiting in lines and paying replacement fees. This is right up there with "run ten kilometers in the sun" and "contract E. coli again and spend a week being violently ill" in the list of things I want to do on a hot Monday in July, when I should otherwise be getting my research done. *sigh*

Oh, and since my ID was stolen and the circulation desk closes at 1pm on Fridays, I couldn't even take out that damn book that was the whole reason I had gone to the library in the first place. Bah humbug.

1 comment:

  1. Sera solo una anectoda pronto... :)