minutes, sitting quietly minding my own busines, and a guy probably in his 60s, drunk out of his mind, stumbling around, with a nose that's obviously been broken so many times it's now pointing at his ear, walks up, grabs my luggage and starts walking away. I run after him and physically wrestle it back from him and try to walk away. He follows and tries to grab it again so I push him and he falls over and I get away as fast as I can with all my stuff. That was when I knew I wasn't in Kansas (or Idaho) anymore.