Getting My Shit Together

I envy organized people, always have.

Over the years I have a long history of losing money and canceling credit cards lost in beautiful countries. Pickpockets mark me immediately. One summer holiday, with my son in Madrid, we noticed a scrawny lowlife young woman following us and she even knew that we saw her! It felt like we were in a spy movie ducking into bars and fancy hotels trying to evade her.  Finally, we found ourselves in a big crowd and I felt something in my backpack. In a flash, she had unzipped a small section and lifted my new sunglasses and my best Lancome lipstick. I was pissed about the lipstick.

When we got to Barcelona I was paying for food and before I knew it, my wallet and money was gone. A lot of money. Thankfully, my son had some cash and I learned how to dial internationally and the card and emergency cash arrived the next day. My son carried my wallet afterwards.

A few years later we were in Paris on our way to Versailles on a crowded train and some smooth French operative lifted my wallet and lots of cash. When the train arrived and I realized my what had happened,  I had to duck under the turnstile, hoping the police didn't catch me and take the next train back to Paris, my return ticket was in my wallet. My organized son went on to Versailles. I had to return to the hotel and once again call the credit card company for urgent cash and new cards. Then go to the police station where it took forever to find someone who spoke English to make the report. We then made another trip to Versailles because I really wanted to experience it. My son again had my wallet.

I have left wallets and phones in taxis but the worst was taking Speech and Debate students to a competition in Beijing and I had my passport in my coat pocket. It fell out somewhere before we got to the hotel and they wouldn’t let me register even though I had a copy. My male colleague asked if I could stay with him in his room, and typical dour, humorless Chinese fashion they said NO, despite the place having a rather seedy air. I thought for a while I was going to have to sleep on the floor of the gym, but a teacher was called and she came and picked me up. We shared a bottle of wine. I felt better.

Now when I travel anywhere my son says “have you notified everyone to get ready to steal your shit?” As well as “Do you have the numbers for the credit card companies in your phone and on another piece of paper in case your phone is stolen?”

When I retired to Ajijic, there was the discussion just what form “losing my shit” was going to take. Things went well, although in the early weeks I had no idea if clerks were giving me the correct change or not. Recently I moved to San Juan Cosala to a lovely house that is right on the beach. I think the local thugs immediately identified me as a candidate for “stealing her shit” so, within two weeks, they had scaled the wall and crept through the newly enlarged dog door and found my purse hanging on a barstool, lifted my wallet and back out the pet door. My dog Paco barks at everything but not that night, he slept like he was drugged. I got a bigger, meaner looking dog.

When I told my son, he just sighed and said “Mom, when are you going to get your shit together?”