What Happens After Your Money Has Been Stolen

Money is the gravitational force around which civilization revolves. It is a rather shallow yet indisputable truth--one which has driven our kind to commit acts of infidelity, dishonesty, and theft.

I must clarify that I'm not a money-hungry person (maybe just a little) and in the distant vision I've constructed of my future, money is a necessity but not an incentive. But how do you react when your hard-earned money is stolen under you nose?

Mistake the first: This isn't the first time I lose money (I am known for being rather neglectful of valuable objects), but this is the first I've had money stolen. It wasn't a disgustingly large amount, but it was money nonetheless. The theft took place on a cold, snowy Tuesday between the hours of 11:30 a.m. and 12 p.m. (if I'm not mistaken). I remember that earlier that morning I'd carelessly put a $20 bill in my coat pocket, hoping to buy a new novel and trusting that my personal belongings were out of thieves' way. Let's just say that I've learned to put a daily limit on assumptions. Upon arriving to the library, I placed my coat on a wooden desk--its usual spot--and made my way to the bathroom (a routine which I've religiously followed since freshman year). It never even crossed my mind that thieves were lurking in the light of day. It is also worth noting that as I headed over to the cafeteria around 11:30 a.m. the money was still in my possession--oblivious to its future abduction and unknown fate--which leads me to conclude that the crime transpired a few minutes before 12:15 p.m. (the time around which I discovered I was penniless).

Mistake the second: Who is careless enough to leave their personal belongings unattended? I am, apparently. I knew I should have hidden my money someplace safe, namely my backpack--or the safest place after a coat. I admit to being too trusting. I have fostered a blind trust in my generation and I wouldn't expect the people with whom I've gone to school to be juvenile delinquents. They've proved me wrong.

Mistake the third: I shouldn't be trusted with money, because, as noted in the aforementioned statement, I am neglectful of it. What, do I think money grows on trees? Um...well, yes. Do I think it's easy to acquire a ridiculously large amount of money? Only if it's Christmas. Nevertheless, I am unfit to manage finances of any kind, especially mine. Hence the stolen money. 

Mistake the fourth: I wasn't planning to spend money today. O, how stupid I am. If I knew I didn't want to go on a spending spree, how do I explain the cash reserve in my possession? In my defense, the flesh is weak around money. 

Mistake the fifth: Don't order coffee unless you're absolutely sure that your money hasn't been stolen. This is pretty self-explanatory. I ordered a latte from a little pastry shop only to find out that I'd had my money stolen. Luckily, the cashier took pity on me and didn't stage a public humiliation starring yours truly. The fact that I paid half of what it cost didn't stop the blood from rising to my cheeks. And had fury not clouded my vision, I would have died of embarrassment.

I am angry and I only have myself to blame. I am careless. Negligent. Irresponsible. Trusting. And absentminded. I save money because I like to buy things I don't need. But on this occasion the gods decided to play a prank on me: I saved $20 only to have someone else enjoy it (very funny). I bet twenty dollars that whoever took my money bought him/herself a pack of Marlboro. 

These kids will do anything to feed their addictions.