Yep—never riding the subway ever again. In the span of me entering the station to leaving at another, my pockets are now featherweight. I knew New York was full of scum and swindlers, but didn’t truly internalize it until it just happened to me, while on vacation too. How great! Well, here’s how it happened.

I’m fairly new to NYC, so to get around I have to use a map. I followed the map to the nearest metro and descended down the steps into a brisk, underground tunnel where I saw hundreds of civilians walking and waiting at respective spots. Bunch of letters, bunch of numbers, was like being in the airport with all these terminals. While I was scanning around the area, I noticed an old, scrawny dude laying by a wall with a guitar and a old, empty paint bucket. For someone that was homeless, he could sing—not that that means anything but still. I maneuvered my way through the crowd and got a closer look. The song he was singing was very gentle, a lullaby even, but in a rowdy place like this, it was kind of hard to hear. The guy noticed me and beckoned me over. Nonplussed, I bent down to him and he whispered something into my ear. “Kiss me, good night,” he blandished. My eyes widened and I yanked myself away—appalled by his careless action. The crowd started laughing for some reason, so I just walked away confused and continued on. I looked back and saw the old man brandishing $500 in 20s to the crowd, which made me realize that that cash he’s holding is MY CASH for MY WALLET. He freakin’ robbed me! So I march back to his grandstand and snatch the bills right out of his grubby, brittle hands and book it. I mean, it’s MY money so I ain’t ashamed of taking candy from an old baby. I dashed as quick as I could to the nearest corner so I could hide from any chasers. I found a bathroom, so I rushed into a stall and waited. The room was quiet and dimly lit. I left the stall, washed my face, then exited the washroom, still disturbed from what happened. But I continued down the subway.

As I was staring at the map, focused on the path, some girl runs up from behind me to pickpockets me with swift reflexes and steal my wallet. WHAT IS THE DEAL WITH THESE PEOPLE?! Is everybody here broke? Is this the underbelly they speak of, cause this is starting to really infuriate me. In lieu of being chased, it’s now my turn to do the pursuing. As the girl pilfers through my cards, revealing that my name is Anna Carrie, age 28, height 5’9 on my driver’s license and that I’m a CEO for a tech company which is why I’m here.

The rest is history.