Pickpocket-proof clothes. The pros discuss the pros. There aren’t too many cons, except for those we foil wearing pickpocket-proof clothes.
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How pickpockets steal from inside jacket pockets
How pickpockets steal from inside jacket pockets usually involves the application of something disgusting, much like the pigeon poop pickpocket does. Occasionally, they use a baby—not to apply the gunk, but to stick its little hand into the male victim’s breast pocket.
A man’s inside breast pocket is one of the safest from pickpockets. It’s one of the hardest pockets to steal from because it’s in front, up close, in a sensitive area. Unless, of course, the jacket is hanging on the back of a chair—then it’s a piece of cake.
Clever strategist pickpockets tap directly into their victims’ emotions, the hard-wired ick factor being a useful one. Bob Arno described how, as a youth, he was “stunned at the callousness of using the primeval emotion, fear, to accomplish distraction”:
“In the early sixties leprosy was still a serious threat to the populations of India and Pakistan. It was common to see sufferers in various stages of deterioration roaming the streets of Karachi, Calcutta, Bombay, and New Delhi. Banding together, they often surrounded Western visitors coming out of banks, hotels, and churches. The sight of an outstretched hand with missing or rotting fingers usually caused people to react with horror and drop some coins, if for no other reason to get the infected limbs to go away. Compassion and revulsion metamorphosed into currency. The ploy was effective, diabolical, and unique to Pakistan and the Indian subcontinent.”
This daring face-to-face technique used to steal from inside jacket pockets, no matter how brief and fleeting, is not for every thief. It takes a certain coolness to step up to your potential victim, show him a close-up of your face, and slide your hands all over his body, like a tailor. The pickpocket keeps track of multiple streams: he’s eliciting the ick factor, acting the good Samaritan, and setting up a stealthy steal literally right under the vic’s nose. He’s probably watching out for police and witnesses at the same time. He’s probably sweating.
It doesn’t always work:
Indian Shit Trick
“We were about to cross the street in Delhi,” a British traveler told me. “It was very crowded, people pushing and going in every direction. We stepped off the curb between some parked cars which were very close together. I was just concentrating on getting through them and across the street. A man bumped into my husband as we were squeezing between the cars. He followed as we crossed the street, and as we reached the other side, he pointed to my husband’s shoe. ‘Shit,’ he said. We looked down and saw it. It was shit on my husband’s shoe. The man offered to help us clean it off, but we thought we knew what he was up to. We thought it was a scam. We’d heard that they do that, then demand huge sums of money in payment, and they don’t let you go until you pay. So we said no, and walked away with shit on the shoe.”
How pickpockets steal from inside jacket pockets
Of course [the prolific and multi-talented Barcelona pickpocket] Kharem has a version of this one. He had led us into a seedy alley, long, dim, and deserted, eager to demo, at Bob’s request, his expertise on inside jacket pockets.
“I don’t want to go much further in this direction,” I said, chicken as usual.
“Don’t worry,” our interpreter soothed me. “I know where we are.” That was Terry Jones, our Barcelona-based friend and bag-snatch authority.
Kharem stopped at a graffitied niche where a stone water fountain was the sole feature.
The only jacket among the four of us on this warm spring afternoon was Kharem’s prop, the “tool” he used over his arm. He put the jacket on Terry and took a fat brown wallet from his own pocket.
“Whose is that?” I asked him.
“Mine!” he laughed, and put it in Terry’s inside breast pocket. I should have asked whose was it.
“Wait till these people pass.” A couple ambled toward us, oblivious to all but themselves.
“Shall I do it on those tourists?” Kharem asked.
“Noooo, we’ll wait,” Bob said, and the rest of us laughed nervously.
“It takes two people,” Kharem explained. “One spits into his hand, then applies the spit onto the victim’s right shoulder.” Standing behind Terry, he showed how to “help” the victim by pointing out the mess. After indicating the shoulder to Terry, who couldn’t see that far behind him, Kharem grasped the upper right sleeve with his right hand and Terry’s left lapel with his left. With both hands, he twisted the jacket slightly around to the right.
This accomplished two necessities. It successfully turned Terry’s attention far to his right, and it intentionally made vulnerable Terry’s left inside breast pocket. With perfect timing, the “pick” of the pair, approaching from the front, would then have free access to the wallet.
Kharem suggested I be the spitting Samaritan and, as Bob filmed and Terry cooperated, we easily stole the wallet. Kharem high-fived his new partner.
“Eeew,” I said, pulling my hand away. His was wet.
“It’s not spit!” he said. “It’s from the water fountain!” I hadn’t noticed that he’d gotten a quick drink.
Spit, shit, what’s the difference? The object is to apply a substance that the victim wants off now. Something disgusting, something staining, something smelly. In New York they use mustard. In London ice cream. Mix and match. The strategist has created his opportunity complete with an excuse to get up close and personal…to touch…to take.
Adapted from Travel Advisory: How to Avoid Thefts, Cons, and Street Scams
Chapter Seven: Scams—By the Devious Strategist
Bangkok theft from tuk-tuk passengers
Bangkok theft has gotten bad enough that police have posted warnings about theft from tuk-tuk passengers. The convenient little auto-rickshaws, ubiquitous on the streets of Bangkok, are completely open and often stuck in traffic. Scooters can maneuver the interstices of clogged roads, sneak up on tuk-tuk passenger, then slither away between vehicles to beat an escape.
It’s a technique long in play in Italy, especially in Naples. There, targets of scippatori, the Italian version of scooter-riding bandits, are more often pedestrians. (Though the thieves have a nasty technique for stealing watches from expensive cars stuck in traffic, even with their windows closed.)
When riding in the three-wheeled open taxis, be sure to keep your bags secured, out-of-sight, or away from the perimeters.
Bangkok theft extends beyond pickpocketing and bag snatching to scams that cost the tourist serious money. Particularly prevalent are gem scams, in which the visitor is brought to a “special sale” and encouraged to buy gems for resale at huge profits in their home countries. And bar scams, and vehicle-rental scams, drink-drugging, and pseudo-cops.
Then there’s the awful shoplifting-set-up scam at Bangkok’s airport, about which I’ve already written.
As if all these Bangkok theft issues weren’t enough for a tourist to worry about, there’s more. Road safety is one of the worst in the world, with poor vehicle and driver safety standards, little if any enforcement, few ambulances, and roads too clogged for ambulances to get through anyway. Add to that wild motorcycle riders attempting to speed around traffic by veering suddenly onto sidewalks, and even pedestrians must be seriously watchful.
I strongly recommend that travelers planning to visit Thailand read the U.S. State Department’s Country Specific Information on Thailand. Like all U.S. State Department country profiles, it covers very real ongoing crime and safety issues without exaggeration.
Pickpockets prefer women. Why and what to do.
Pickpockets prefer women!
It’s not that we’re any less savvy. It’s the darn handbag. It’s simply easier for a pickpocket to slip his fingers into a bag than into a pocket. Or worse, to grab the whole bag. Our research proves it: pickpockets prefer women!
Anti-Theft Tips for Women
Don’t send signals that you’re worth the thief’s effort. Forget the flashy jewelry when you’re out and about. Knock-off watches and costume jewelry are no better; the thief can’t tell they’re fake.
Public restrooms: Rude, but true: you may or may not notice a hand reach over the door and snag your bag off the hook at the most inopportune moment. Loop it around the hook and keep your eye on it. Dropped coins in the stall beside could be a distraction ruse.
If you carry a purse, try to give it nerve endings: hold it snug against your body, never let it stick out behind you, especially never let it stick out behind you open.
- Use a wide-strapped bag and wear the strap diagonally across your chest, or a short-strapped one with the purse tucked under your arm.
- Keep your bag closed properly. If it has a flap, wear the flap against your body.
- Keep your wallet at the bottom of your purse.
- Never hang your purse on the back of a chair in a public place, where it’s out of your sight. Keep it on your lap. If you must put it on the floor, tuck the strap under your thigh, or put the chair leg through it.
- Be sure your purse is in front of you as you enter revolving doors, board trains, etc.
- Never leave your purse in a shopping cart or baby stroller.
- Never set your purse down in a shop so you can turn your attention elsewhere.
- To prevent a drive-by bag snatch, walk far from the curb, on the side of the street towards traffic.
- If your bag is snatched, let it go. It may be impossible to fight the instinct to hold on, but try to ingrain that thought. You can get seriously hurt in a bag snatch.
Fanny packs may not be the height of fashion, but they are very safe if you secure the zippers, which are easily opened by practiced thieves. Use a safety pin, a paperclip fastened to a rubberband around the belt strap, or string. Anything to make opening the zipper more difficult.Hotel lobbies are not secure enough to leave bags unguarded.
Business travelers:
- Don’t leave your purse, laptop, or briefcase unguarded at hotel breakfast buffets. “Breakfast thieves” specialize in stealing these at upscale hotels.
- Always make sure your hotel room door closes completely when you leave.
- Do not carry your electronic card key in its folder marked with your room number.
- In nightclubs, do not leave your drink unattended. Drink-drugging is a growing problem.
- Stow your stuff safely in underclothes pouches.
For a summary of common (and not-so-common) thefts, cons, and scams, see Pickpockets, Con Artists, Scammers, and Travel.
Theft-proof vacation travel
Theft-proof vacation
Just about now, millions of people are thinking about summer travel. For many, it will be foreign travel. Novice or expert, it doesn’t hurt to review a few travel safety tips. Thefts everywhere are on the increase. And you want a theft-proof vacation, right?
Make these theft-thwarter tips a practice whether you’re far away or not so far, and you’re much less likely to become a sad statistic.
Bags
•Count them often and watch that everything is loaded into your taxi. Sometimes they’re not.
•Keep an eye on them in the hotel lobby; anyone can walk in and grab them when you’re not paying attention. It happens.
•Assess the risks of hotel lobby luggage storage before taking advantage of the service. Is it a locked room? Are they just in a heap in the lobby? Is there free access to them?
•Be aware that carry-on allowance may be severely limited on flights originating outside of America. Roll-ons allowed within the U.S. may be required to fly cargo on foreign flights. Choose a lockable carry-on, or keep a canvas tote handy to shift your valuables and necessities into if your bag is taken away for cargo.
Smartphones
•Do not leave valuables sitting exposed on a café table. Thieves can swipe smartphones as swiftly as a magician.
•Don’t flaunt it, or your iPad. These are highly valuable swipeables, and “Apple-picking,” when these electronics are snatched from users’ hands, is becoming more frequent and more dangerous.
ATMs
•Cover your fingers as you enter your PIN.
•Do not become distracted by activity around you. Fake fights are sometimes staged, or you might be asked for assistance.
Hotel Rooms
•Do not carry your electronic card key in its folder marked with your room number.
•Check outside window access before leaving your window open when you’re gone or asleep. Do a hotel room security check.
•Always make sure your door closes completely when you leave your room.
•Remind yourself to empty the safe with a note in your shoe.
Public Transportation
•The moments of entering and exiting crowded public transportation are your most vulnerable and a thief’s most rewarding.
•If you’re in a crowd, be particularly aware of your valuables. Suspect bumps or jostles: they may be a distraction technique.
•Do not leave your bag unattended on a train. Do not leave it on luggage racks at the end of the carriage. Be aware of it if you place it on an overhead rack.
•If you’re pickpocketed in a crowd, try demanding the return of your item. It might mysteriously hit the floor. Shout out, too, on the off chance an undercover police officer is nearby.
Pockets
•No, they’re not safe for valuables.
•Yes, buttons, zippers, and velcro give a fraction of a drop of extra protection in that they take the pickpocket an extra second.
•Use under-clothes pouches to store your stuff safely. Or try Stashitware, underpants with a safe pocket.
•Remove valuables from the pockets of a jacket before hanging it on the back of a chair.
Old Tricks
•Escalators: Recognize the Pile-Up-Pick. The person in front of you drops something just as the escalator ends, bends to pick it up and causes a pile-up. As people compress in the crash, the person behind you picks your pocket.
•Helpful cleaners: Heads up if you hear “something dirty got on you—let me help you clean it off.” He’ll clean you out.
•Electronic equipment surreptitiously offered on street corners is tempting, but you’ll walk away with a block of wood, and wonder how it happened. Heads up on the bait-and-switch scam.
•You cannot win pavement wagers. The three-shell game, three-card monte and others are designed to extract your money. The operator is in complete control and fellow players are shills.
•If you buy art or furniture to have shipped home by the store, take a picture of it just to be sure you get the right items. The very act of photographing seems to increase your odds.
Bottom Line
•Don’t attract thieves by looking like a wealthy tourist. Don’t wear flashy jewelry. Or replicas—the thief can’t tell your Rolex is fake or your jewelry is costume. Leave it in your hotel.
•You can never obtain 100% total security, but aim for a compromise that is comfortable for your travel style.
•Remember: the idea is to increase your awareness and decrease the opportunities for an unfortunate incident.
Have a great summer and a theft-proof vacation! And happy travels!
Interview in an Opium Den – Pickpockets in Morocco
In a dim, smoky opium den, we faced the backlit profile of the Moroccan pickpocket. He barely looked at us, concentrating instead on our interpreter. Steaming glasses of sweet mint tea sat before us, packed with fresh leaves of brilliant green. Bob waited to sip his tea until I was half finished with mine—to see if I keeled over, I imagined.
We had come to the medina in Tangier in search of a pickpocket, and our hired guide had found him. Al’alla was hunched over a newspaper at the front table in the cave-like café, the only spot within bright enough for reading. After ushering us into chairs and ordering our tea, our guide and translator, Ma’halla, spoke in rapid Arabic to Al’alla: “Don’t say a word of English, my friend. Let me do all the talking. Just answer my questions in Arabic and we’ll both have money for the smoke tonight.” Well, he could have said that; but it soon became clear that Al’alla had been a skilled pickpocket in his day.
Questions tumbled eagerly from Bob, but Al’alla was no easy subject. Perhaps embarrassed by his miscreant days, he skittered and skirted the core of his story. Bob prodded, encouraged, and teased until he finally found the appropriate tool for extraction. With the glibness of a talk-show host and the sincerity of a confidence man, he proffered the camaraderie and respect of a colleague. Bob’s disingenuous smile and elegant canards came effortlessly, as if from a spurious rogue. Al’alla relaxed and, perhaps followed suit.
Pickpockets in Morocco
Al’alla had honed his talent as a child in Tangier, then traveled to Barcelona for the big time. It was the sixties, and while Tangier reveled in flower power and hippie freedom, its drugs were routed to Europe through Spain. Al’alla found picking pockets far more lucrative and infinitely safer than drug trafficking. People carried cash then, not plastic, and naiveté in travelers was more prevalent than sophistication.
On La Rambla, Barcelona’s broad and proud promenade, people strolled like clots through an artery. Kiosks of birds, flowers, and newspapers crowded the avenue. Parrots squawked, pigeons cooed, fragrances of cut lilies and hot paella wafted on the air—it’s still like that today. No one suspected the darting figure of a well-dressed gentleman, so obviously in a hurry, as he ricocheted off the moving mob.
Al’alla in his 50s still had a handsome face, though its several scars suggested a rough past. He was small and wiry with delicate hands. His soft-spoken manner and gentle composure alluded to the pretender’s persona he got away with in his furtive past. Today he worked as an electrician, and his handful of tools lay on the table as we spoke.
I’d been more than a little worried when Ma’halla first led us through the bewildering high-walled alleys of the old city. It wasn’t long before I realized we’d never find our way out alone. Was the medina really this big, or was Ma’halla confusing us with tricky detours? We lost all sense of direction.
The busy souk, with its colorful stalls of spices, brass pots, and rugs, gave way to vegetable sellers who sat on the ground shelling peas, defeathering hens, stripping mint leaves. Then there were only blind alleys, closed doors, and the occasional Arab hurrying past in his long, sweeping djellabah.
Ma’halla was not particularly savory: his face, too, was scarred, and the few teeth he possessed were red with rot. Big and muscular, he wore a cap pulled low over his bloodshot eyes. His English was good though, and he exuded a wary confidence that suited his mission.
The unnamed café was a hang-out for small-time crooks and drug addicts. A few strung-out characters packed their pipes behind us asContinue reading
Pickpocket beggars
On the heels of the Louvre pickpocket debacle, here’s a profile of two exuberant Roma women pickpocket beggars who tell us how they do it, who their favorite victims are, and why. They also told us how they accomplish a quick-change on the run after a theft: “I take out my ponytail,” Gemila said, “and put on lipstick.”
In Chapter One of my book, I describe how Maritza and Ravenna, children in Rome, pretend to beg under a sheet of newspaper. In Barcelona, Nezira and Gamila carry big slabs of cardboard, roughly torn from a carton. On it, scrawled in Spanish, is “No work. No money. No eat. Thank you for some money.”
The women, 31 and 28 years old, shove the cardboard horizontally into the waist area of their target and look up with enormous eyes. Under the cardboard their nimble fingers open fanny packs and rummage through pockets, unseen by their owners.
“These two are this city’s most prolific pickpocket pair,” Police officer Giorgio Pontetti told us when he sat in on our interview of them.
How is one to know desperation from deception, mendicants from impostors? One begs to eat, another begs to steal. The impostors, those who steal under the pretense of begging, can be found all across southern Europe. Some attempt to tug at heartstrings with scribbled claims of being refugees, and perhaps they are. Others have given up pretenses altogether, keeping the cardboard but omitting the written request for money. For them, any prop will do: a map, a section of old newspaper, an infant.
Yes, even an infant. A sleepy baby in a sling on the chest well communicates hunger and need. And if the woman with the baby comes close enough, the baby will act as a shield for her hands. It’s not uncommon for these babies to be in the midst of nursing at their mothers’ bare breast: all the more distracting to the victim. Irreverent? Perhaps. Deceitful? Absolutely.
Finally, it is frequently claimed that these women will sometimes toss their babies at their victims, which distracts the victims to an extreme and occupies their hands at the same time. Although we’ve heard it said many times, we cannot substantiate the assertion.
Pickpocket beggars
Beggar-thieves Nezira and Gamila had it all figured out. They had plopped their slender bodies into childlike positions on the ground, cross-legged, and dropped their jackets into a heap beside them. They were both pretty, with long dark hair and teenage faces. They squirmed restlessly, fidgeted, and repeatedly glanced up to Officer Pontetti for encouragement and approval.
“I go up to people,” Gamila explained. “If they say go away because they know I am going to steal from them, we just go away.” She shook her bangs out of her eyes. “But if they seem to be innocent, then I will go for them. They have no idea that I’m a bad person and want to steal money.”
Gamila grinned, hideously transforming her pretty face into a week-old jack-o’lantern’s as she revealed her rotten teeth. She lit a cigarette.
“Japanese are hardest to steal from because they always throw up their hands and step aside,” Nezira said. “They don’t want to have anything to do with us, so it’s hard to get close. They don’t want to get involved.”
“Germans are so-so. Americans are difficult, but they have so many dollars!” Gamila laughed with embarrassment at her own daring, dipped her head, and looked at Nezira. Nezira giggled, then both fell apart, as if they couldn’t maintain seriousness for more than a few minutes at a time.
They’re serious on the job, though. Bob used a lipstick camera which, as its name implies is the size of a lipstick, to film a similar duo. We put money-sized cut paper into an envelope, put the envelope in a fanny pack, and zipped the pouch closed. Bob wore it. Soon enough, a pair of women approached us making kissing faces, an odd combination of worried eyebrows, pursed lips, and pleading eyes. One’s cupped, begging hand steadied the cardboard balanced on her other arm. Bob held his little wide-angle lens at hip height. Under the cardboard, the film showed, the beggar-thief opened the fanny pack, removed the envelope, and closed the zipper. With a final mimed kiss and the envelope hidden beneath their cardboard, the pair wandered away.
Rich man, poor man, beggar man, thief. Was this M.O. used in the mid-1700s when the Mother Goose rhyme was written? Perhaps it was originally “beggar man-thief.”
When the two women saw us again half an hour later, they gave us the finger.
Excerpt from Travel Advisory: How to Avoid Thefts, Cons, and Street Scams
Chapter Five: Rip Offs: Introducing…The Opportunist
Pickpockets in the Louvre
Pickpockets running rife in the Louvre—nothing new there. Pickpockets acting aggressively: in our 20 years of active street crime research, we’ve been flipped off, hit, spit upon, and mooned.
I hate to say this because it’s bound to be taken wrong, but the flipping off, hitting, spitting, and mooning has all been committed by Roma whom we were following and/or filming as they pickpocketed or attempted to do so. Though they are certainly not the only pickpockets in Paris or in Europe, they’re a particularly visible group. Other nationals have learned to better blend into their host cities.
The Louvre pickpockets’ M.O. is already familiar to me. They employ minors—their own or other children from the clan. The children are not in school. (The parents allow them to attend until they can read and write; then they’re yanked out so they aren’t sucked into the Gadjo (non-gypsy) ways.) The children may get caught, but must be released to their parents because they are underage. The parents yell at these children, not because they were pickpocketing—but because they were caught. The adults, when arrested, are usually held only a day or two, if at all, and then go right back to work—usually back to their favorite territories.
Roma immigrants from Romania are fleeing real persecution, abominable conditions, and pauper’s wages. They arrive in France and other European countries claiming to seek a better life for themselves and better opportunities for their children. Their vocal representatives beg for integration assistance and national governments develop programs with that intention. Yet the Roma remain outsiders. By choice, it seems.
Many (or most) are illiterate, which seriously compromises their job options. What else are they to do?
One document from a current investigation against three Romanian women illuminates the trend [crime spike]. “For at least a year, observations in Duisburg (but also nationally) show that Romanian groups (apparently family clans) are committing organized crimes on an alarming scale,” it reads. Most of the crimes involve pickpocketing or shoplifting, but there have also been cases of fraud whereby perpetrators pretend to be deaf or disabled while panhandling, then snatch wallets and mobile phones from their distracted victims. Clan leaders send out mainly young women on a “regional” basis for these activities.
Poverty and Crime: Conditions Little Better for Roma Immigrants in Germany, Spiegel Online International, 10/19/12.
The police Bob Arno and I communicate with constantly express frustration over the Roma crime wave, which is not new, but is getting worse. Criminal Roma are regularly given €300 and escorted to the border. After their paid vacations in Romania, they return to pick up where they left off.
It is difficult or impossible to discuss this issue, let alone solve it, without being politically incorrect. Perpetrators, good Roma citizens, and the press all blame a prejudiced stereotypical image. The word gypsy is all but outlawed. My 250 page book on pickpockets and street crime does not use the word once (well, once—but in a string of general references to many cultures).
Yet, despite all the denials and euphemisms, Bob and I have observed and interviewed Roma—yes, Gypsy—pickpockets all across Europe. Police we meet and police we know well struggle to dial back crime levels perpetrated by their communities. Now, Roma begging has gotten out of hand.
There is evidence that much of the begging is organised and controlled by men. The women are expected to bring in at least 50 euros a day. Some, like outside the Gare Du Nord, operate in groups of up to 15. The police believed that invalids and children, who are used to gain sympathy, are shared out between the groups.
The Roma Repatriation, BBC News, 8/19/10
Countries experiencing Roma criminal gang activity are calling for the European Union to find a solution better than evictions, better than abuse, better than handouts, better than relegating the Roma to the barren fringes where they have little chance to integrate into society. But I wonder: do the Roma want to integrate into society?
The Thieves of Naples—part 9
NAPLES, ITALY, the week before christmas. We now have to rush to our last meeting with Franco outside Mergellina station. It’s 5:00 and Michele hustles us toward the train but I’m transfixed, feet rooted to the ground. I’m watching a living, black, organic shape in the sky as it morphs like an amoeba, low over the city. It’s huge, monstrous, yet graceful, and I know that it’s thousands of starlings flying some innate choreography, like a screensaver in the sky.
Michele calls Franco when we arrive at the station. Franco is unenthusiastic on the phone. “I have someone fixing the boiler right now. Well, Okay, I’m coming.” But as usual, he’s warm and lively when he zooms up on his scooter.
Despite his griping, Franco likes the film. He chuckles. He’s only concerned about certain people knowing what he does for a living. I presume that everyone already knows—he’s been working out in the open for decades. If Bob and I, a couple of occasionally-visiting foreigners, see him at work, it must be common knowledge. But it’s the neighbors in his building he’s concerned about, and his younger children. His two grown children were raised knowing what their father did. But it’s different with the small ones now. He knows they’re going to find out, but he wants to delay it.
The sky has turned from luminous dark blue to black. I’m freezing and dying to get off my feet, but this is clearly going to be a long meeting, standing here in front of the train station, circling Franco’s scooter. Franco’s phone interrupts us continuously. He wanders a few steps away to take calls, but speaks loudly.
Franco has a serious question. He asks if we think he looks like a pickpocket. We say no, not at all. He looks like an ordinary man, trustworthy. Franco likes this, and says that’s his goal. That’s why he carries no tool. The tool makes him recognizable.
I notice how very beautiful this piazza is. The surrounding buildings are immaculate, brightly painted, and warmly lit. The trees are heavy with ripe oranges so perfect they look fake.
Franco speaks sadly about his wife’s depression, that possibly it’s a form of relief: it’s okay for her to fall apart now because he is finally healthy. It is ironic, because all the times he was drug-sick or in jail, his wife had to hold the family and finances together. Bob insists she is sad because of his profession, and her worry that he can go to jail at any time. Franco says no, he hasn’t been arrested in ten years.
About teamwork, Franco says his brother is an excellent Nona (blocker) and has a gift for reading the body language and mood of marks. He can separate a couple swiftly, which is exactly what the pickpocket needs. Franco sashays gracefully between Bob and me, making me spin away. But his brother wants to do the extraction, and that he is not too good at. This causes rifts and family arguments. Bob later describes Franco’s demonstration as “smooth and practiced, like a slalom skier.”
Finally we say goodbye and Franco speeds into traffic. Michele has a lot of catching up to do translating the gist of Franco’s rants. His (Franco’s) language skills are very poor, though sometimes he is colorful and poetic. He cannot speak in Italian at all—only in the Napolitano dialect. He knows there are words out there, Michele says, so he reaches out and grabs one, though it is often the wrong one. Michele is rather colorful himself.
Together, we take the small streets back to our hotel and Michele points out what the neighborhood was like when he grew up here. It’s a long, long walk, but it warms us. We pop into bright little shops along the way and pick up cheese, bread, grapes, and that incredible licorice liqueur.
This is Part 9.
Read Part 1.
The Thieves of Naples—part 8
NAPLES, ITALY, the week before christmas. After his demonstration of hard bargaining, pickpockets Angelo and Luciano smoke on the narrow balcony while we chat in the kitchen. Shortly, Angelo announces that he needs to get back to work. He’s got a lot of christmas presents to buy. He kisses all the children again. We all trek down the dark stairwell and the thief bids his farewell with the customary kisses. The waitress spots him and begs for a photo, along with Bob. She remembers Angelo from the film, too.
The restaurant is small—maybe five tables inside, more outside when it’s warmer. Bob and I take a corner table with Luciano, Michele, and Lucca. The place is all family run. The waitress points out her father-in-law the chef, her mother-in-law, her husband. Luciano says he sometimes buys food here and brings it upstairs, when no one feels like cooking.
I ask Luciano if he liked the film about himself and his pickpocket friends. Yes. Did anything negative come from it? No.
Luciano tells how sometimes he’d ask a mark for the time, just to get him to raise his arm and elbow. Then he’d move his own arm forward to block the mark’s arm from coming down. That gave him the moment he needed to get into the pocket. Also, when people were all bundled up in the winter, he’d knock a mark’s hat off. That’s all it took to distract him.
The pickpockets like to take most of the cash, but leave some, Luciano says. That way the victim doesn’t think he’s been pickpocketed, but wonders where his money went. Did he spend it? drop it? forget to get change? They don’t like to take a wallet, either—they like to take the money and leave the wallet if they can.
One of us asks Luciano if he ever felt bad about stealing. If he ever had regrets. He says yes, and tells about the time he stole from a man just before christmas and managed to pass off the money. The man caught him, but when the police accused him, he had no evidence on him. Still, he knew the police knew. Meanwhile, the man had begun to cry, he was so upset. He gave the money back to the victim. “Most of it,” he clarifies.
Coffee comes, then limoncello and a delicious licorice liqueur. The brand is Strega, Italian for witch.
This is Part 8. Read Part 9.
Read Part 1.