I am sitting in a Starbucks in downtown Chicago, wrapping up a work meeting. I reach down for my purse. I’d wedged it between my foot and the wall. It is no longer there.
“Where’s my purse! Where is it!” I leap to my feet and thrust my head under the table. No purse. I scramble up, whipping my head around, scanning the cafe. Patrons look up from laptops, eyes wide.Panic spreads through my gut. I am three time zones away from home. I should call the police, my bank, the credit card companies. I should call my husband, in his office on the West Coast. But I can’t call anyone, because I no longer have my smartphone. Or any of the information on it. Or my driver’s license, credit cards, debit card, medical insurance, and trusted-traveler Nexus identification. A thief has it all, and right now is likely chortling as he paws through it, discovering he now also owns my checkbook, business cards displaying my home and email addresses, the electronic fob for my car and the airport parking stub showing exactly where that car is parked. He has handwritten directions to my daughter’s Chicago apartment, which I’d scribbled to myself earlier, along with the security code to get in. He has the cash I’d loaded into my wallet for this trip and the bag itself.
What should you do, when your purse goes missing? Experts including Gloria Johnson, clerk with the Chicago Police Department’s detective division, offer these tips:
First, confirm that it hasn’t just slipped under your driver’s seat, or been left behind at the last restaurant.
Report the theft to the police. Not because they can find it, but because you’re going to need that case number. A thief could commit a crime and drop your stuff, including your ID, at the scene. If your identity is stolen, a police report provides evidence in your favor.
Have your mobile phone company reset your missing phone to factory settings. Change passwords, just in case.
Call the issuers of your credit and debit cards to report them stolen. That’s different than canceling them, which could affect your credit report. Have compromised accounts closed.
Contact your state’s motor vehicles department to report your license stolen.
Especially now, keep an eye on credit card statements, bank accounts and credit score.
Start the ongoing work of contacting all companies and utilities that access your now-closed cards for automatic payment.
Some companies have a lag before their system can implement a change in automatic billing. In my case, I provided AT&T with my new credit card number the day it arrived. Four weeks later, I was dinged with a late fee when they attempted to charge the previous, closed card. I called, explained and got the late fee removed. It happened again four weeks after that, again a week later, and again 10 days after that. Each time, I called and waded through a long, tedious menu to a real person, to get the charge removed.
That was not the worst of it. Four weeks after the bank closed our checking account, my husband noticed an unusual charge, only a few days old. He clicked to view it — and saw one of our checks from the supposedly closed account, made out to an unknown name for $1,200. His signature had been forged, and the check had been successfully cashed.
Nearly hysterical, I called our bank. They couldn’t explain how it happened, but they covered the cost.
Another reason to have a police report: It occurred to me only months later, after I’d totted up the value of the theft, to file a homeowners claim. I hadn’t realized how much it’d cost to replace everything: smartphone ($849 plus $73 tax plus $20 upgrade fee plus $37 protective case), $75 driver’s license, $25 Nexus card, $285 car-key fob, $200 for the purse itself, $40 for the leather wallet and more. Even after we met our $1,000 deductible, I was reimbursed $799 by our insurance company, which needed the police report.
It’s much better, of course, to avoid getting your purse stolen in the first place. “You don’t lay it down anywhere,” Johnson says. “It’s not out of your sight, period.”
originally ran in Chicago Tribune, July 2017
