Filched
I have an amusing anecdote from my stay in Madrid, that I thought I would share. But then I read this, and realized that I had been totally out-classed.
Still, I hope that, after you’ve read PsychoPhil’s story and cleaned the coffee off your keyboard, you’ll indulge me as I recount my more modest tale.
I arrived in Madrid on Sunday morning, and made my way to my hotel on Madrid’s excellent Metro system. The stop at which I had to change trains was approaching, and I stood up to made my way towards the door. With my garment bag slung over one shoulder and my book bag over the other, somewhat dishevelled from having spent the last umpteen hours crammed into an economy-class seat on a trans-Atlantic flight, I must not have been a very pretty sight.
So I was a little surprised when an attractive young woman, standing by the door, smiled pleasantly at me. I smiled back, and then looked away. When I looked back a moment later, she was … gone. I looked around the car, but she’d vanished! “That’s odd,” I thought. But I didn’t think much more about it, as I got off the train and made my way to the next platform.
It was then that I noticed that the outer pocket of my book bag was unzipped. “Uh oh!” I thought, as I began to rummage inside it. But, no, my iPod was still there, along with all the other items … except … for a bottle of fountain-pen ink in a ziploc bag.
It took a while for me to get around to replacing the bottle of ink, but aside from that, no lasting harm was done.
So I’d like to thank you Señorita, wherever you are. I got a fair amount of amusement out of the episode. I hope you found something equally useful to do with the ink.
Posted by distler at July 6, 2007 2:23 PM