You drop all your bags where you were standing and rush over to save the day. The woman turns her head enough to see you coming. In a moment, you've positioned yourself between the woman and the other man. In another moment, she has you in a headlock with a small gun pointed at your temple.
"Now," she says, "or this bloke gets it: give me the damned shoes!"
Shoes? Really? She's holding you hostage over shoes?
"Bloody hell, woman," he says, "those shoes are worth more than that bum." Thanks, you think.
"I'll do it," she answers, "I swear I'll do it. Do you want a death on your hands?"
"Don't do it," you plead.
"I don't care," he says. You're starting to hope she actually does shoot you, just to get you away from this atrocity of human interaction.
"I'll do it," she again assures him.
"I don't care," he says back again.
"Maybe you should," you suggest.
And so...she does it.