I am the luckiest crime victim ever.
I have friends who have been raped in parking lots, held up at gunpoint, seriously injured in random attacks. One friend was stabbed by a kid trying to steal her purse and the $8 it contained. Another friend was held up at knifepoint in Ecuador by a two guys who took not only her wallet but the shoes off her feet (a la Carrie Bradshaw, only much scarier). A girl I met in Costa Rica told the story of waking up in her tent one morning to find an ether-soaked towel next to her face– and all her stuff gone.
After 38 countries and a few stupid moves, here’s my crime victim story:
I’m staying in an Air BnB in Uruguay. I wake up in the morning to find the door unlocked and my wallet, emptied of cash but still holding my ATM card and a copy of my passport, outside. Before I can really even be bothered by this situation, the night watchman comes running up to apologize: he saw the guys and chased them, but they got away. The property manager is right behind him, asking me how much money I lost ($60) and replacing it right there.