I don't mean to brag, but I've spent a fair amount of time avoiding thieves in dangerous places. On my way to Afghanistan in 2001, I watched Uzbek militiamen in flamboyant camouflage take hundreds of dollars from a colleague's satchel.
They didn't touch the cash hidden under my jumper in a money belt. When Baghdad fell in April 2003, I stashed thousands of dollars in a ceiling panel in the Palestine Hotel, to save it from looters.
But I met my match on Friday, in The Mint café in the Westin Hotel, Westmoreland Street, Dublin. Why does bad luck always strike when you're most cheerful?
I'd just come from a spirited discussion at the Franco-Irish literary festival, and enjoyed lunch with The Irish Times foreign editor. But in the back of my mind, I heard a Damascene society lady I met in January: "Never put your handbag on the floor!" she scolded. "It's bad luck!"
The whole operation took only four minutes, I learned watching the closed circuit TV footage with the Westin's security man, Sebastian. At 1.24pm, two men and a woman entered the basement restaurant and pretended to look for a table. They surveyed the place and settled on muggins.
The men stood watch while the woman took up position to one side, behind my chair. She tried to snag the straps of my handbag with her right foot, succeeding the second time and dragging it several feet towards her. She picked up the bag, and the three walked out. I didn't notice it was missing for 10 minutes.
"They're professionals," Sebastian commented. The CCTV footage was blurry, but I asked for a shot of the lady with the hook foot, to print with this story. "We can't release CCTV pictures under the Data Protection Act; it's to protect the criminals," another security man told me.
My thieves were stunningly non-descript: white, middle class, middle-aged, lumpy. The barmaid thought she heard them speaking "a Latin language". When two under-cover gardaí arrived, they looked like stereotypical thieves: young, muscular, scruffy.
At the Pearse Street Garda station, I learned that four or five handbags are stolen every day between Grafton Street, Pearse Street and Temple Bar. Security men and gardaí merely go through the motions of recording the thefts. "We have so many of these cases; 99 per cent of them go nowhere," a garda told me. In the future, I'll enter Dublin's Bermuda Triangle with caution.
I called my mobile phone number, in the naive hope the thieves might answer and I'd say: "Thank God! You found my bag! Could I give you a reward?" The phone was still on, but the crooks didn't pick up.
Couldn't the gardaí use electronic wizardry to locate the mobile? "We only do that for really important cases," a garda said. I knew what he meant - scarce resources, matters of life and death - but I couldn't help feeling that my contacts book, driver's licence, French press card, three credit cards and house key were important.
Not to mention objects of great sentimental value. By the time I pay for new locks for the house where I stay in Dublin, my foolish inattention will cost close to €2,000.
Nearly every one I talk to has had a similar experience. A colleague in The Irish Times lost a new leather coat, also while lunching in the Westin. Her CCTV footage showed a well-dressed man, age about 60, walk past the coat rack several times before folding her coat over his arm.
I'd done something really stupid: I left my new laser card in its envelope with the PIN number, which I intended to change after lunch. In the half hour between the bag-snatching and my blocking the account, the thieves withdrew €400.
Now we're trying to locate CCTV images from the ATM where they took the cash. "Unfortunately, a lot of the cameras don't actually record," a garda told me.
"The pictures are very poor. And it takes a lot of time. The banks subcontract to security firms, and you have to make 1,000 phone calls." I knew what he meant about 1,000 phone calls. With the exception of my account manager at Bank of Ireland, who was perfect, I spent the whole afternoon battling phone menus and recordings saying, "We're sorry, all of our customer service agents are busy," to cancel my credit cards and mobile phone subscription.
With luck, I can re-organise my life in a week.
But I've learned important lessons: 1. Always carry the absolute minimum in cash, identity papers and credit cards. 2. Wipe those stereotypes about youths and ethnic minorities out of your head; they're just as likely to be garda detectives. Yes, Uzbek militiamen and Baghdad looters are dangerous, but it's the ordinary folk you've got to watch out for in Westmoreland Street.