A season of giving... and taking

And at times, sadly, against your will.

The modus operandi of pickpockets or snatchers may already be familiar to most commuters of the metro. The details I know are based on accounts from those who've become targets -- or, in cases where the attempts were succesful, victims -- and from a personal experience not too long ago.

In over 15 years of moving around in the metro, last night was my second time to be a target (at least, one that I was aware of).

There were only four passengers in the UP Pantranco jeepney when I boarded it at Philcoa. A man, which hereinafter I refer to as Crook A, followed and sat at my right side. The jeepney has moved a few meters when another man boarded, and seated at my left side. I later found out that this was Crook B.

Crook A had his knapsack resting on his lap, and when he reached over to hand his fare, I got pressed between him and Crook B.

I was wearing formal slacks then. The pinch at my right front pocket was so light and seemingly so accidental that I initially thought Crook A was just digging in his own left pocket. But at the second pinch I saw in my peripheral vision that Crook A's right hand, partly covered by his knapsack, was unmistakenly scratching at MY right pocket, trying to squeeze out my cellphone.

I let go of the handrail and adjusted my seating position to give my right peripheral vision a wider view of Crook A. Unconsciously I started cracking my knuckles and flexing my wrists -- if I need to get physical with Crook A, the first blow has to be quick and sure.

I waited. In my head I was rehearsing: the cellphone had to out of my pocket and clearly in his hand, then a back-fist, grab his right wrist, another back-fist, push his face to the floor, place a knee on his back... (and praying my body would execute everything as planned).

Crook A must have sensed the change, because he withdrew his right hand and pretended to fuss over the straps of his knapsack, all the while slowly sliding away from me.

The expression of the man seated in front of me told me that he, too, saw what Crook A did.

Crook A became restless, and as the jeepney slowed down at the Agham intersection, he got off. Crook B, who was seated quietly and unmoving all the while (and, looking back, he didn't pay his fare at all), hurriedly got off too.

As the jeepney move, the man in front of me said, "Kasama niya yung isa, 'tol."

Geez. I completely forgot that crooks like these rarely operate on their own.

Sigh. Wishing everyone safe holidays. Stay alert.