Czech Republic – July 2009

Apparently, I have a trustworthy face. On more than one occasion, people I have been traveling with who had never met me before have asked me to collect their tips for guides and drivers. Guides have asked me to help collect passports or post their tour packets back to their companies for them. So, this is how I ended up stealing a guide’s wallet.


I’m in the Czech Republic as part of a Central Europe tour that started in Austria. It’s advertised as an Eastern European tour, but our guide is adamant that it is a Central European tour. He’s young, Slovakian, and likes to end each day with drinks. As my roommate is Australian, he joins him every night. I decided to also join them this night, along with two others from our group. As the drinks flow, we notice that the guide leaves his wallet on the table and seems to become less and less aware of it.


“Someone should take it,” one of my group states as the guide is off getting more drinks. We each look at each other before it’s decided that it should be me, as he would never expect it would be me. So I do, slipping it into the side pocket of my cargo pants. And, as tends to happen when many drinks are involved, he doesn’t notice when we get up to leave. I am only reminded when I return to my room and notice a bulge in one of his pants pockets. Unless there’s a knock at the door, I guess I’ll be returning it in the morning.


As there was no knock, I bring the wallet to breakfast. Our guide has either been told it was me or has figured it out, as he comes up to me as soon as he sees me. I have a good head for numbers. I have all my vital numbers—passport, driver’s license, credit cards—memorized and can tell you my grandparents’ phone number from when I was a kid, though both are long gone. It’s a gift and a curse. 


So, when I hand our guide his wallet, I tell him it’s okay, I’ve already memorized his credit card number. I then start to recite the first few digits, just enough to see a troubled look appear on his face. I imagine him checking his credit card statement carefully and not leaving his wallet on the table anymore.


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This travel tale is included in my collection, Can’t Get Here from There: Fifty Tales of Travel. Buy it on Amazon.

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