Robbed

My computer was just stolen at the Seattle Airport. Our flight from Portland was delayed for nearly an hour and our connecting flight to Sitka didn't wait for us in Seattle; the plane was still at the gate when we arrived breathless, but the door was already shut. We had to re-book, and then we had to figure out how to get hold of the people in Sitka to let them know we'll be there at 11 PM instead of at 6 PM. I sat down next to Chuck while he called information to get the Church's number and then called to inform them of the change of plans. I was vaguely aware that the guy on the other side of me got up, clicked his briefcase shut and left. After Chuck was off the phone I reached to get my book out of my computer bag, which I had put on the seat between me and the stranger. My coat was still there on the seat, but the computer bag was gone! What a sick feeling. Brand new. . .we bought it in August.

The police came, but obviously, they don't hold out much hope. I could not give them a very specific description of the guy because I barely noticed him--I was concentrating on Chuck's phone call. This kind of stuff really shakes me up. . .I guess I'm no different than the next guy. Where's my joy?