And I was having such a good day...

I had such a good evening planned last night. A nice meal, a good book, some music, and then "Bonekickers", the new BBC series which sounded really good in trailers (wasn't too bad, either). And then, in the bus about two stations away from home, my wallet was nicked.

The guy who did it was a professional (well, there's at least that consolation; to be pickpocketed by an amateur would have been so embarrassing), he brushed up to me in the crowded bus as he was stepping off, even said "Excuse me", and next I know, wallet taken. And before you ask, it was in my bag, invisible to the naked eye, and behind a zipper. Like I said, he was a professional.
The good news is that I had about 60 pence in that wallet, so he didn't get any money. The bad news is that I also had my Barclays Visa card and my German Mastercard in it, as well as my driver's licence, my NI card, library card, and my German ID card, as well as some items of sentimental value (a "Shaun" pin from the "Wallace & Gromit"-short films, a ST-TNG trading card that has been in my wallet for the last, oh, ten years or so, a pirate band-aid, someone's autograph, those odds and ends that make a wallet into a medicine bag). Luckily, I had that morning decided against taking my gas card to be topped up.
I went through the stages of surprise-anger-desperation-anger-acceptance quickly enough (you should have seen me run after him across the street - still careful of traffic - and shouting, "Come back here, you bastard!" at the top of my voice), bumped into a woman who, after a few minutes, asked me if I was German and from then on we talked in German (she's apparently been living in London for 20 years and has had her wallet stolen four times in those years), and then walked home, calling idahoswede on my little mobile.

Once home, I tried calling my bank in ever growing desperation and frustration. I had no idea how long it takes to actually get though to a person, and I think I even asked the guy on the other end if he was a real human. You get to talk to a computer first, who of course asks you to provide your card number. Hello? I don't have it, it's stolen?
Finally, about half an hour - in which time the crook could have tried my card and taken out who knows how much money - I got through to someone, and managed to cancel the Visa card.
Then a call to my dad (yeah, bite the bullet, call the parents - my first instinct is usually to not involve them - I know how worried they can be, and also, I anticipated (and received) the usual "Why does this always happen to you"-speech), who got through to the German bank to cancel my Mastercard. Meanwhile, I called the library and canceled the library card - while I don't think a pickpocket would go and lend books, it's better to be safe than sorry.

By that time, I had a whopper of a headache, although I was much calmer - again, thanks to a talk with idahoswede. I went to make a pizza and get a gin&tonic, and did watch "Bonekickers" after all.

After having talked to a few people and realizing that everyone I talked to had had something stolen from them, I'm thinking that having a wallet nicked is probably an initiation ritual into being a Londoner. It is annoying, I have to go to a lot of trouble and possibly money to replace the stolen items, the important ones, anyway, but I'll take it as a learning experience. Do I have any other choice?