The Day My Bragging Rights Were Stolen

One time when I was in Barcelona… okay, actually, last week while I was in Barcelona. I wish I could say "one time" so that the distance between the incident didn’t still sting to write about. But alas, my 20-year streak of "knowing how to travel safely" has been shattered, and my bragging rights have been officially revoked.

Or should I say, my bragging rights were stolen? You tell me after I finally get to the point.

While shopping in Barcelona, my phone was stolen. The phone itself? Not a huge deal. Thank goodness for the cloud, right? Plus, I had already dropped it while rolling my bags out to my ride, leaving me with a lovely set of cracks to work around for the rest of my trip.

I knew immediately that it had happened. As diligent as I always am—wait, scratch that. That bragging right is gone now.

So let me rephrase: As diligent as I was for years before this, I gave the pickpockets at La Boqueria a prime opportunity. I slipped my phone into the loose pocket of my sweater while retrieving my wallet from its fortress of security—buried inside a pouch, zipped inside another zipped compartment, tucked away in my thick, hard-to-cut leather book bag. At 6'4", it would have taken a skilled robber and a tall one to catch me slipping.

Yet somehow, while I was navigating my own high-security wallet setup, I was bumped from behind—just enough of a distraction for someone to smoothly lift my phone from my pocket.

I knew instantly. But it was too late.

I, Miss World Traveler Expert, had been robbed.

That night, more than anything, I felt irritated. The hassle of calling to disable the phone, reporting it stolen, freezing my Google Pay cards—you get the picture.

But speaking of pictures, that’s what really got me.

It wasn’t until I got home that I realized my photos hadn’t backed up to Google Drive. The reason why? Not even worth explaining—let’s just focus on the fact that they weren’t.

I had taken some amazing shots. A whole collection of beautiful doors I planned to print. Candid photos of me and my bestie with artful backdrops. And… okay, let me stop before I cry all over my keyboard.

The pictures were gone.

When I told a friend about it, she dramatically declared, "That’s it! Pack up and come home. You’re not safe!"

I laughed. "I’m pretty sure I’m less safe in the U.S."

Because let’s be real—if this had happened there, it might have been at gunpoint. My life could have been in danger. In Barcelona, it was just a pickpocket. A faceless, nameless thief who got me just like they probably got a hundred other people that day.

And honestly? It was my fault. I knew better. I gave them the perfect opportunity.

The Business Lesson in My Stolen Phone

I’ve noticed that life’s little (and not-so-little) mishaps often have a business parallel.

The last time I was on a long trip—this time to Sweden—I lost a client in a way that felt eerily similar to losing my phone.

I let my guard down.

I lost focus on securing the client while traveling, and by the time I realized what had happened, she had signed with someone else.

Unlike my phone, I couldn’t just buy another one. And like my photos, that opportunity was lost to me forever.

The worst part? The client was a referral from a beloved friend. I scrambled with apologies, but in the end, I had to take the L.

It was a wake-up call.

From that experience, I got serious about my CRM. I stopped pretending I could operate in multiple time zones like some kind of superhero. Now, I communicate better with clients, let them know when I’m traveling, and set realistic expectations—so they don’t feel forgotten.

Losing my phone bruised my pride, just like fumbling that client intake. But both experiences pushed me to do better.

I’ve now let go of my false sense of security. I’ll be backing up my important moments more diligently. And next time I travel? My phone will be out of reach from quick-thieving hands.

Can You Relate?

Have you ever lost something—an opportunity, a moment, a memory—because you let your guard down?

How did you move past it?

Or maybe you haven’t had that moment yet. If that’s the case, hold onto your bragging rights—and take these last few minutes we’ve spent together as a friendly reminder.

- The Tall Money Lady

P.S. Later, I found out that thieves get about $20 per stolen phone. It’s not even about the device—it’s the precious minerals in the parts that make them valuable. Wow.