Hugged or mugged

I usually don't tell my mom stories like this. They just make her worry, but this one is too crazy to keep quiet.

We recently had dinner at a patio cafe preferred by ex-pats. I was the only girl among Kyle and several of his co-workers, The Baker Boys. Dinner was fine. Salad, pizza and good conversation carried on for a couple of hours. It was getting late so the tab was settled and we exited the restaurant into Fountain Square, one of the most jovial areas in town. Families linger on benches, kids kick a soccer ball, teenagers sit at the edge of the fountains. The Baker Boys are talking business, so I'm walking a few paces behind, just enjoying the summer night.

Out of nowhere, I'm grabbed around the waist and a vice-like grip is squishing my pelvis. The culprit: a seven year old Azeri girl, cute as a button. She keeps hugging me as I put my arms straight up in the air, indicating that this is an unwelcomed hugging. I firmly say, "No touching." And then, "that's enough honey" to no avail. The Baker Boys start to laugh until they see the fear in my eyes. She is not letting go of me and she really is squeezing me hard. I try to pry away her scrawny arms as I'm telling her, "No! No! Off! Off!" I feel bad because it's the same way I talk to my dogs, but really, she is starting to worry me. I look to the Baker Boys, and I've never seen four grown men utterly helpless. If the attack was being carried out by a teenage boy or a grown man, the Baker Boys would have jumped in to save me, but what do you do when the assailant is a female child under four feet tall and less than 60 pounds?

One of the Baker Boys says, "tickle her!" to which I respond, "absolutely not!" Baker Boy is a father himself, so he rushes over and sure enough, once he starts tickling her, she involuntarily lets go of me, but not before her little paw reaches into my skirt pocket, looking for loose change. It's finally dawning on me that someone has put her up to this. I hurriedly walk away, but she comes back for a second assault. Baker Boy starts with the tickling again and she breaks out into giggles and scurries off.

I'm thankful that when I put my arms in the air, I had kept my purse out of her arm's reach. But then I start to think, why didn't I just give her a few coins? The whole scenario was funny, but sad. Next time we visit that cafe, I will be on the look out for the tiny hugger and will be prepared. Either I have to out run her or I need to be ready to part with spare change.