Looking: A Fictional Story

 In a private online community I lead a writing exercise that is my version of Writing Down the Bones derived from a book by Natalie Goldberg.

 

The way it work is a topic is announced and then you have ten minutes to write - thing is you're not allowed to edit: the goal is to turn off your inner editor and just write.

The topic was looking and this is what came out of me:

 

I saw her standing there, looking around.
I also like to look around, people watching being a great free hobby.
I watched her. She was cute and charming and intriguing. She was wearing what looked like a wedding ring but i've heard some women wear rings to fake out or discourage folks from asking them out. It was working.
She saw me looking and smiled. So now I was looking at her looking at me and wondering if this was getting a bit too meta.
Then I noticed a few more mirrors in this bar and realized there's ways I can look at her and others without them seeing me.  

I was now watching the woman, who i'd decided was a Karen (not one of those racist Karens but one of those Karens upset that all Karens now got a bad wrap) and I was watching her from a ceiling mirror while she was watching me from a mirror on the back wall.
But wait, now her vision was shifting slightly to someone walking up to me.
That's when I felt a hand on me and I whirled around, watching a guy who was just about to tap me on the shoulder while, based on where his hands were, was about to separate me from my wallet.
He was wearing sunglasses so I couldnt see where his eyes were now but I could see myself looking more confident than I felt as I pushed him away from me.
He quickly disappeared. I turned to look  back at her but she too was now gone.  

Damn. I went outside and looked both ways but still could not see her... or him. I sat on a bench and had a think.  

Did she just use my interest in her to try to steal my wallet or was there a more innocent explanation like she wanted a look at my wallet so she could check me out via social media before I said word one to her?
It was as I was concluding that I would probably  never know her that I saw a taxi pass by with the woman inside. She looked me up and down and smiled and that was the last I ever saw of her. Sitting next to her was the pickpocket who was inspecting a watch, that looked a lot like my watch. A check of my wrist indicated the man was faster than I'd thought. I had to give them credit: it was a great scam. One more thing to look out for.