If you're ever traveling in Prague, especially if you are alone and male, watch out for the Pickpocket Whores. I'm not sure if they are really even whores, but be careful, because they certainly are pickpockets.

They travel in pairs around the main tourist path, on Karlova and in the lower parts of town near the St. Charles Bridge. They stay far from the real whores, who hang around Naprikope, and the areas around the Mustek. They find unsuspecting men and proposition them with physical touches, picking pockets with four hands while the poor man is distracted by their come-ons.

Of course I knew nothing about Pickpocket Whores when I arrived there in 2001, alone and male, about 10 o'clock at night. My taxi took me near to the bridge, and to my hostel on Karlova. I was sitting outside the hostel, my backpack by my side, just watching the people before settling down for the night.

I was approached by a very forward older woman, together with a pretty but shy young woman. The older woman began propositioning me, and squatted down to put her hands on my thighs and got entirely too close for my comfort. I was not interested in prostitutes, to say nothing of rather haggardly older ones, and because of my seated position, she couldn't make any progress either. I didn't know what I had run into until later.

The next night I ran into another pair of them, near the same place on Karlova. This time there were two, both of them young and outgoing, but neither particularly attractive. They approached me and propositioned me. Of course I said I wasn't interested, but they simply would not leave me alone, no matter what I told them. When they finally went away was when I realized their real purpose. I travel securely, but the few dollars I had for pocket-money were completely cleaned out, perhaps $20.

Now that I knew what they were about, I knew to completely avoid them, and by then, I knew where the real whores were, so I knew the difference. But I didn't run into them for a few more days.

Several evenings later, I was walking down to Karlovy Lazne (the best disco in the world), and I ran into another pair of them. I knew exactly what their gig was, and treated them with much hostility, but they couldn't be stopped. My two hands were no match for their four, and no matter how many times I slapped their hands away, they kept reaching for the zippers of my day-bag. I escaped without losing anything, but at the end my patience had run out and I had to push them away with full force, even yell at them a little bit. I felt angry at them, ripped off, taken advantage of, and I wanted revenge.

Then I had an idea. It seemed to me that two could play at this game, even though I wasn't much of a pickpocket. I could still steal from them. I went down to the disco, and while I was there, in private, I arranged my daybag. I put a few small bills in various places that could be found with a little difficulty, but anything of value I buried so deep in my multilayered, multizippered daybag that there was no way they could ever find it. I'd let them look, and pretend to be fooled and interested in their wares. While they were digging out worthless small bills, I could cop a feel, and get a real bargain on it. It was brilliant! I was going to get the best of the Pickpocket Whores!

I walked up Karlova, and right through the main tourist thoroughfare toward the Mustek, trying to look as innocent, bright-eyed, and vulnerable as possible. But this time, I didn't meet them. The street was surprisingly quiet. Only a few tourists milled about on the same path as I, in one direction or the other. I didn't even come close to anyone.

I walked the whole tourist route until I reached the end of the route, the bottom of the mall at Mustek. Right about that time I noticed something dragging behind me. It was the leash formerly attached to my camera.

My camera had been stowed rather vulnerably in my fanny pack, but it was tied with this tough vinyl leash. The leash was long enough for me to pull it out quickly to take a picture, but should slow someone down, should they try to run away with it.

I saw nobody, came close to nobody, touched nobody, but somebody had managed to sneak the camera from my fanny pack, deftly slice the leash, and escape without my even noticing their existence.

I haven't met any Pickpocket Whores since then. I decided to leave Prague the next day, and I did.