Riding home on the Métro from a poker game, the #4 pulled into Réaumur-Sébastopol, and out of the corner of my eye I saw a well-dressed thirty-something French woman in high heels standing on the platform. In a flash, a man came running across the platform, snatched her purse, and went flying up the stairs. In the same instant, the train started pulling out of the station as she was frantically chasing after the guy, screaming, and waving her arms – high heels and all. As it happened, she was running the same direction that the train was going, and I was facing the opposite direction in the window seat on the platform side, so the scene was especially dramatic from my perspective, as she was running alongside my window for a few seconds in absolute hysterics. Then, as quickly as it happened, the train hit the tunnel and the scene went black. I looked across the aisle at a middle aged woman, and as our eyes met, she clutched the strap of her purse with a vise grip.
Moving to France was the only way I was ever going to have the desire to play Texas Hold ’Em. I’m stubborn like that. I won 11 euros.