Conversation, Robbery, Dinner, and a Movie [updated]

Remember when I wrote about the ninja wallet-snatcher? Well, I have since encountered a fingersmith that puts said thief to shame. I went to Argo Tea (which generally I find to be a lovely establishment) last night. I was meeting a woman for one of those awkward is-this-a-date-or-just-a-friend-thing-things, and I got there a bit early on purpose to screw around on the internet...and be there first, because being early makes me feel some sense of control for absolutely no reason in situations like this.
She got there and we started talking and after about ten minutes she commented that the table we were sitting at was vibrating and it was really loud, and suggested we move. FINE. There goes my false sense of control. She was right though, we were practically yelling at each other and the table was shaking visibly. So we moved upstairs, to a table right by the top of the stairs, and I put my bag where I thought it would be safely stowed, under the table, between my legs and the wall. We proceeded to get to know each other a bit. She's an elementary math teacher, she sings and plays guitar, she is from D.C...normal, normal, teehee whatever..bla, bla, Ex-wife.

Homosaywhat?

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I actually knew she had been married prior to having this conversation, but the way it came up it was still like flinging a half dead fish in the middle of the floor. All I could do was sit there and stare while the information flopped out of her mouth uncomfortably.

She handled it very gracefully, though. No trash talking, a balanced perspective. The situation was one that would have facilitated a lot of bitter, nasty remarks as well, so I was somewhat impressed with that. We decided we were going to go see a movie and we got up to leave. As I was putting on my coat, I had a definite Miss Clavel moment.
"Something is not right."

My bag was gone. A messenger bag that my aunt just gave me, which, if memory serves me, happens to have been a bag that I picked out for my grandmother to buy when I was a preteen. I chose it, she bought it, gave it to my aunt, then my aunt gave it back to me like twelve years later. Then fucking twelve days  later, some shit heel swipes it. Inside was quite a boon. My laptop, a cashmere scarf which apparently cost more than the laptop and was not mine, all of the relevant cords, phone charger, credit/debit cards that I just got replaced, my passport (which was the last scrap of ID I had left and if you aren't aware those things are not cheap), my notebook (which had so much personal and embarrassing shit in it I don't even want to think about it), my endorsed (yeah, I know, good one, shut up) paycheck, and a bunch of other crap that I could list and explain why it irks me that it is gone, but it would be gratuitous to do so.

Fuck. Poor Sylvia had no idea what to do. I was strangely calm, and walked around for a few minutes like a zombie, "just checking" to make sure I hadn't somehow forgotten that I left it sitting in the middle of the cafe floor or something. There were a couple of cops sitting downstairs. I had a little chat with them. They told me that since I didn't know what the thief looked like, it was pretty much hopeless, but to file a police report anyway. While I was calling to report the cards stolen, Sylvia took out her wallet and realized that her credit cards and ID were gone. So not only did this creep make my bag magically disappear, she also got into her pockets, took her wallet, took out the cards, left the cash and put the wallet back. What the hell? I am reaching the point of paranoia that I actually eyeballed her suspiciously like she was trying to scam me in some strange way, but then she started freaking out and making phone calls, so I dropped that theory. Also, she very sweetly offered to take me to get food with her surviving $12, but then thought better of it and suggested we go back to her apartment, so she could make me dinner in an attempt to redeem the evening, which we did. Then we watched Fingersmith, somewhat coincidentally (fingersmith means thief, if you aren't familiar with the term), which I quite liked. I'd say it was a successful turnaround.

UPDATE:
The thief went and treated herself to dinner at Panda Express ($20), a shopping spree at Walgreen's ($50), and then tried to buy a whole mess of crap at Sears ($400), which stopped the shenanigans by tripping the fraud alert on both of our cards.
That is some ghetto shopping right there.
If I was going to steal someone's cards and go on a spree, you would find me buying designer clothing and a steak dinner, not at some triflin' convenience store. 
I went to the police station to file a report, and guess who helped me? The same front-butt who "helped" me file the report about my wallet. He was completely dismissive and basically told me that since I didn't see the person who did it, there was nothing they could do (regardless of the fact that Argo has security cameras that the person would have had to walk right by with my bag and the cops are the only ones that can go review the tapes), and that they are not going to be investigating. Neat. Thanks. I wonder why this keeps happening to people?

A little cranial-rectal inversion syndrome, perhaps?