Steve and I were hanging out at Starbucks, each of us nestled into a big, cushy chair, drinking coffee, sharing a cookie. To my right was a little table and chair. It was sort of annoying because it was *right* there, but whatever. It wasn't annoying enough for us to move. I mean, c'mon, we were in the big, cushy chairs.

Throughout the night, a bunch of different of guys sat down at that table. Every time another one would leave, I'd breathe a sigh of relief. Hey, I like my space. At some point, a new guy sat down. I couldn't see him — I hadn't been able to see any of them because of the way my chair was turned — but, I don't know, he seemed closer than anyone else had. Out of nowhere, I felt this hot, sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I realized my purse was on the ground, next to my chair, totally within reach of that guy. I looked down, and I was both surprised and relieved to see my purse sitting there. I picked it up and moved it to the table between Steve and me, feeling lucky.

If only I'd looked inside. Grr!

con't