Ze Metro... never saw anybody piss (I associate that with urine-soaked walls on country lanes) but les pique-pockets are fun...
[What'sThePointOfThisStory?]So my cousin from the Orleans Avenue Louisiana Canecutters is on vacation in Paris with her friends. Let's call her Delilah. Delilah and crew are on the Metro, and notice obvious scam in progress as kids come though their car, young boys slowing down their mark by walking backwards in front of him, while teen girl follows behind, trying to get his wallet. They warn the dude, get a little stink-eye from the thieves, who get off at that station.
Then down the line, Delilah reaches for her little blue change purse. It's gone. It's not about the money. That's her favorite purse. Bagpipes start blaring in brain as she leads her friends off the train, jump another going back. The Wild Hunt is on.
Sure enough, pick-pocket girl and her imps are still there. Delilah wades in on the doxie, "Where's my purse?" "Ah don't 'ave your purse!" so Delilah commences to WHALE on this chick like Clubber Lang, just dusting her ass. It's France, people believe in freedom of expression, nobody jumps in. After a little of that, Pick-Pocket Girl, still claiming not to know about a purse, starts throwing wads of money at Delilah, maybe a hundred bucks worth.
Tactical thinker, Delilah and her pals scoot, jamming loose bills in their pockets.
And later, she finds her blue change purse.[/ILikeStories]