Yesterday me and The Aspinauts were performing at Autism Victoria‘s Expo.  It was in a huge swoosh venue, Ridges on Bell, in not so swoosh Preston where I’m from.  I was a guest speaker on the day and the band was to perform during cocktail hour.  Well, I set up a table, books, cds, DVDs, art prints, all of that, and did some book signing, sold some stock, got people to sign a petition lobbying our short sighted government to reverse their funding cuts for OTs and Social Workers under Mental Health.  All was rather ticketty boo really.  Heather met up with us, an Aspie we knew from the auties.org dinner club.  Anthony, the keyboard player from The Aspinauts helped me attend the stall.  I went and did my talk, on marriage and relationships on the autism spectrum.  Everyone happy.

It was around 4pm when we started to set up down the other end of the events hall, hardly anyone present.  We decided to move the stock table down toward the stage so I could keep an eye on it during our performance.  I took my handbag, checked it was locked, wrapped its strap around it and obscured it among the music bags we stored under the table.

Around 5pm people trickled in and we took the stage, singing our usual Aspinauts madness mixed with beat poetry, gestural signing and fun and all streamed live via video to other regional branches.

By 5.05 a group of about 12 people had gathered in front of my stock table, obscuring it.  But behind the table was a woman who had taken a seat, my seat, behind the table, looking as though she was attending the stall.  I figured she was maybe a parent of someone on the spectrum just taking a rest there.  Heather held up her bag, pointing to it and then to the back of my stall.  I gave her the thumbs up, sure, she could store her bag safely back there, no problem.  I figured I’d better let this small crowd know I wasn’t able to sell them books until after the show so with the band improving to cover me I wandered over, miked up with my wireless mike and told them.  They dispersed slowly, the woman still sitting in my chair.  On my way back to the stage I noticed my bag.  It was still on the floor but now unwound, opened and toward the front of the table.  I went to it, opened it and realised with dread my red and black purse was absent.  I looked at the woman behind my stall, pointed at her and said, “you will stay there.  You won’t move.  You’ve been here the whole time.  You will stay right there”.  Then I took the stage.  I announced to the audience “Someone get security immediately, my red and black purse has been stolen”.  Heather went to look for her back.  Her purse was missing.  “Mine too”, she called.

I made the announcement again, “there are two stolen purses, please get security immediately”.  The woman moved to sit behind the next table, edging her way to the exit.  “Ok then, they say the show must go on”, I said, then continued to sing and perform our set as the room waited for security.  A staff member then came to the stage addressing me, “I’ve seen it, she’s got it, your purse is in her bag”.  The guys in the band improvised as I strode off the stage to the woman.  “You have my purse, you will give it to me immediately, empty your bag”, I told her.  She went through the motions of going through her bag with one hand as the other, obscured by a coat moved about.  My purse fell under the table in full view of the room.  “It’s on the floor, she’s dropped it”, called someone.  I picked up my purse.  “Heather, this woman has your purse”, I called out, heard by the whole room.  Heather’s purse then dropped onto the floor under the table.  Security arrived.

I checked my purse.  My cards were all there.  I didn’t think to check for my money.  It wasn’t until after the show and after being interviewed by the police and they’d left that I found my purse was empty.  It had had receipts in it, from my village, from my counselor.  I phoned the police who still had the thief in custody.  I described my receipts and how much money was missing.

On the way out the door, the band now packed up, I got a call.  The police had found my receipts on the thief.  I would get my money back once the case was prosecuted.  She was not with the conference.  She had wandered in to see what she could steal and probably knew nothing about autism.  She had picked two people with autism to steal from and we had caught her.  I learned from the hotel staff the cleaners had found other people’s belongings in the toilets.  She had had a busy day.  But when she picked on an Aspinaut armed with a microphone, a captive audience and notoriety she could not hide from, she had really pushed her luck.

Donna Williams, BA Hons, Dip Ed.
Author, artist, singer-songwriter, screenwriter.
Autism consultant and public speaker.

http://www.myspace.com/nobodynowherethefilm
http://www.donnawilliams.net
http://www.aspinauts.com