Pickpockets, loose women, boasters and bluffers

Pickpockets, loose women, boasters and bluffers

One memorable scene from the 1968 hit musical Oliver! featured Fagin teaching urchins the art of pickpocketing to the tune of You've Got To Pick A Pocket or Two. Fagin's message seems to have been adopted worldwide, as there is hardly a country that doesn't have a pickpocket problem, although one suspects there aren't too many in North Korea. According to the Daily Mail, in Britain alone last year there were an estimated 1,700 cases a day.

The situation was highlighted recently when the Louvre in Paris had to close for a day after staff walked out, complaining that the place was being overrun by "aggressive pickpockets". Even the staff were being regularly "dipped".

Paris is not the worst place for pickpockets, however, ranking third according to recent surveys. For many years Barcelona has held the dubious honour of the pickpocketing capital of the world, followed by Rome, Prague and Madrid.

It's not just pickpockets we have to worry about.

The New Orleans police department used to display a splendid sign "Beware Pickpockets and Loose Women" _ now that's a wicked combination. It brought to mind a sign I spotted outside the Seaman's Inn at Zamboanga in the southern Philippines which warned: "No Boasters, Bluffers, Imposters or Hasslers", which just about ruled out everyone in the place. But there was no mention of pickpockets.

A close shave

It was in the Philippines many years ago that I fell victim to a pickpocket gang. I was walking along Roxas Boulevard in Manila with a colleague about midday and we boarded a passing empty jeepney and sat opposite one another.

At the next traffic lights half a dozen males piled aboard and squeezed in next to us. I didn't think any more of it and after two minutes we got off, still on Roxas.

It was at that moment I felt a kind of draft up my left leg and looked down to see my jeans pocket flapping open, slashed by a razor blade, and the 600 pesos that had been inside, gone. I couldn't believe how the fellow sitting next to me had achieved this without me noticing a thing. At the same time I was relieved I hadn't been aware of it, as I don't know how I would have reacted. Fainted most likely.

The Slasher

Back at the hotel in Manila the receptionist greeted my return with considerable concern. In her rich Filipina English she announced: "Sir, it looks like you are the victim of the SLASHER!" making me feel like I had experienced a close encounter with an extremely bad Hollywood B movie. Later, the same receptionist kindly sewed up the pocket for no charge and subsequently every time she saw me going out, looked most concerned and warned, "Sir, stay away from the SLASHER!"

Suffice to say, I didn't board any more empty jeepneys.

I continued to wear those jeans for several years, the patched-up pocket a constant reminder of the need to be alert out on the streets, wherever you are.

The lady with the phone

So, what about Bangkok? It would be nice to think it doesn't happen here, but like anywhere in the world where there are big crowds, there are usually pickpockets.

And remember that the perpetrators are often not Thai.

One Post reader told me he was on a crowded escalator going into a mall when a woman in front of him dropped her mobile phone. As she bent down to pick it up, it prompted much bumping from people behind and to the side.

As he reached the top of the escalator, he noticed his left pocket was a little lighter than before, by 20,000 baht to be exact. It will come as no surprise the lady with the phone had evaporated, plus her accomplice who lifted the money.

The victim admitted he was foolish in carrying so much cash, but was impressed by the speed and efficiency of the gang.

Anyway, beware of ladies or gents dropping phones on escalators. You can be polite and pick it up for them, but it might be advisable to check your pockets afterwards.

Fame at last

There was an occasion in London about 10 years ago when, in retrospect, I narrowly escaped being pickpocketed. I was walking along a crowded Oxford Street when a youth suddenly approached me. I thought it was going to be a mugging. Instead he blurted out, "Excuse me, are you Michael Caine, the actor bloke?" I'm not making it up.

"Sorry, I wish I was mate," I replied as we stood there in the middle of the pavement while assorted passers-by bumped into me. I eventually wandered off, feeling as if I had somehow let the fellow down. I even took a sly glance at a reflection in the shop window to see if there was even the vaguest resemblance to the "actor bloke." There wasn't. Woody Allen maybe?

That 's when I got that cold clutch of fear. The wallet!

Had I, in my vanity, fallen for the corny old two-pronged pickpocket pincer movement that has been going on in London since the times of the aforementioned Fagin?

Much to my relief, the wallet was still there, and I could continue to savour my fleeting moment of fame as Mr Caine. But looking back on it, I was very lucky.


Contact PostScript via email at oldcrutch@hotmail.com.

Roger Crutchley

Bangkok Post columnist

A long time popular Bangkok Post columnist. In 1994 he won the Ayumongkol Literary Award. For many years he was Sports Editor at the Bangkok Post.

Email : oldcrutch@gmail.com

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