Something so unsettling happened last night, I have BANISHED my fanny pack to the back of the closet!!!! Bear with me while I retell the tale...

I was crunching on my freelance writing projects all day. I finished around 8:30 p.m. and decided I had time to sprint to Star Market up the street to shop for a friend coming to dinner tomorrow night. Mind you I am carrying my pack under my arm, clutch style (as it looks SO LAME strapped to the belly or fanny, as designed. bleech). I redeem some bottles (I love that term "Redemption Center," I feel like I should go to confession after I crush my cans of Pepsi!) then jet into the market. The sign says they close at 9 so I WHIP into the produce section, putting my beloved stupid f-pack in the little top kiddy basket part of the shopping cart. I put my grapes and lettuce on top of my pack (my way of preventing theft. HA!).

I continue to run through the store picking up cheese, crackers, nachos, beer, wine, etc. etc. It is one-minute to 9:00. I get to the front of the store and hoLY SHIT, MY PURSE IS NOT IN MY CART!!!!!!!!!!!! Imagine my panic. I'm rifling through the few things I have and it is friggin' not there. I backtrack through the aisles in case I put it down--nowhere. I go to the store manager and report "My purse has been stolen." I am exhausted and flustered!!! So they make me stand with my unpaid cart of goodies by the courtesy desk while the manager and asst. manager run through the store, looking for suspicious types with my pack. I am eyeballing every last-minute straggler coming off the checkout lines to see if they have my bag! Meanwhile the store has called the Cambridge Police and I've called my husband to come down for moral support.

Greg gets there--still no police or purse, and I'm really thirsty but I don't have any money to buy anything as my fanny pack is nada. I realize if someone stole it, they could be out having a party with my credit cards and ATM card right now...so I send Greg home to go through my shoebox of receipts to cancel everything.

Meanwhile, I notice something strange.

I have peaches in my cart.

I picked up no peaches. I picked up grapes. So now I am convinced someone pulled a switch in a FLASH and took my pack--and grapes--replacing both with peaches. The asst. manager thought hmmmmm...maybe someone has your pack by MISTAKE and "they left you some peaches." So I started praying, God, let people be good. Show me the good in people, not the bad." Meanwhile I'm thinking, you miserable fuck, you stole my bag. My bag with the little prayer cards stuck in the pocket along with my movie stubs. My bag with my goddamn Brigham & Women's Hospital and Dana Farber Cancer Institute patient cards. Go ahead and mess me up you miserable greedy evil fuck!

By now it's about quarter to ten, the police haven't arrived, and I can't get my bank on the phone to cancel my ATM card. Just then the assistant manager says "My manager found something, come with me." We meander through the store, which is emptying out, and lo, there's my cart with my grapes and lettuce and carrots AND FANNY PACK underneath--abandonned by the cheese case. I pray again "let people be good" and open the pack--and all the cards are there.

We *think* someone accidentally switched carts with me and when they realized it wasn't their cart, they abadonned it. You'd think if they saw the fanny pack...a decent person would turn it in. Either they didn't see it or they didn't care...clearly, like me, they were in a rush.

Meanwhile Greg has cancelled all my cards and I have no plastic now for about a week to ten days. "It coulda been worse." I hugged both the manager and asst. manager (to their horror) and by then the cop had arrived so I could report a mistaken identity on a shopping cart. Had I been less panicked and more astute, I would have noticed not only were my grapes missing but also my lettuce and carrots--HENCE the switched cart theory. I have no idea how or when my cart was taken as I was moving fast and stayed close to my cart. But clearly I took someone else's cart, too, otherwise how'd I end up with those damn peaches?

So let this be a lesson to us all: DON'T PUT YOUR PURSE IN YOUR SHOPPING CART! The whole damn cart can disappear in a flash, and all you're left with are unpaid-for peaches.

I've learned my lesson. I transferred all my stuff into my clunky grandma black handbag with the shoulder strap. I will look for a trendy, hip bag WITH STRAP. But at least for now, I'm safe.