R.I.P.

It wasn't there. I stared at the spot where I had locked up my bike, trying to find the outlines of white against the the dark pavement. Did I have too much to drink? Maybe I put it somewhere else? I wandered among the other bikes locked against the fence nearby. Nope, it had definitely been there. Chained to a pole that I thought could handle the job.
Apparently, bike thieves in Bologna are known to remove the signs from poles so they can lift the chained up bike up over the top. I learned this after my thirty minute trudge home in the cold.
Bike theft in Bologna is about as common as that annoying itch to use the bathroom when you know that there isn't one nearby. It's a nuisance. Rather unpleasant. But we can't stop it from happening.
Almost everyone in Bologna buys a stolen bike. They know it, in turn, will eventually get stolen. Then they'll buy a new stolen one. It's almost like you're paying a fee to rent it for a while.
I thought I would start off with clean karma and pay for a used bike. 50 Euro. It lasted me a full semester and I really thought for a while there I could make it through the year. But apparently leaving it outside a two room bar/casual dance party under a bridge in the north of the city doesn't factor in to karma. So here's to my hideous bike that creaks and has faulty breaks! I hope your next owner falls off your wobbly seat!
On the other hand, having something stolen from you once puts you on alert for the next attempt. And it wasn't that far behind.
In case you haven't seen the snow in Bologna, I'll post the picture from my Facebook below:

Bologna is ill-equipped for such weather (as seen by the fact that my classes have been cancelled for four days). When I decided to venture out to buy much-needed groceries, I was concentrating hard on not slipping on the completely iced-over stonework of the cities streets.
I was almost to my front door about to drop the five groceries bags filled with nutella, milk and other unnecessarily heavy items when a woman approached me in the middle of the sidewalk asking me for money. I swerved to walk around here since the bags we getting unbearably heavy, but I took the side heading toward the building. She mirrored my action, ending up cornering me against the wall still asking for coins. As I swung my arms to move around her yet again, I saw her shift the blanket she had in her arm. I checked my purse, which had been hanging on my front right hip.
My wallet was gone.
I briefly panicked about leaving it at the grocery store. I didn't want to believe that, in broad daylight  this 30-something woman had reached into my purse, successfully found my wallet and was about to walk away with it.
But as she shifted to move around me in the opposite direction, I abruptly turned to face her.
"Dammi il mio portfoglio!" (Give me my wallet)
In a moment of adrenaline mixed with fear and anger, only English swear words came to mind.
She continued to bow her head down asking for money while backing away. I took another step forward. Afraid of losing her or ending in some kind of all-out chase. She looked straight at me then and I grabbed at the blanket in her arms, out from which fell my precious wallet (home to credit cards, various documentation, as well as a hundred euro).
This is not a very scary story. No one was almost killed or mugged or even really threatened. I've just never had it happen to me before. I keep running it over in my head. What if she hadn't given me my wallet back? What if she tried to run away? What if I went upstairs, only to realize a minute later she had taken it? Would I unleash my male roommates on her?
It's better that it happened to me this way. I still have my wallet, but I also have a much more heightened sense of my surroundings. I think, however, I should definitely throw away my purse.