A few days ago, I almost became a thief.
I went with my family to the local dollar store for a late night snack run. It was one of those good days were we couldn’t stop laughing and everyone was getting along. I grabbed a magazine once we entered the store and said ‘hello’ to the shopkeeper as we always do.
We go to this particular dollar store so much, we know every person who works here including the manager. They even let us bring in our chihuahua, Snuggs every now and then. It was a quick in and out store run. We were basically spending money just to spend money. We didn’t really need anything (first world problem #87). It was all quick until we got to the cash register and my brother decided to make me pay.
“I don’t have cash,” he said. Then he proceeded to whip out this big box of change he had been carrying around the whole time. It was embarrassing. So embarrassing, I just paid for it myself. But the cashier said she would take his change and give him the exact amount in dollars. Of course, my brother couldn’t decline and my mom was too busy laughing to care.
No one else was in line so we had all the time in the world. He dumped his change out on the counter and they both quickly counted the change one by one. “$1… 2… 3…”, separating the quarters from the dimes and nickels into groups of four.
Once they finally finished (totaled to about $15! So he could have paid for it himself -__-) and my mom was done laughing, the cashier wished us a goodnight and we threw her a thanks on our way out the door. As soon as we got in the car, I looked at my hands and realized my hands weren’t just full with grocery bags. I still had the magazine in my hand!! I completely forgot about it. I made the biggest gasp in the world and everyone in the car looked down at the magazine.
I had got clean away with robbery and, being a goodie two shoes, I panicked.
“What do I do?!”, I yelled.
My mom was calm. Almost too calm. Like an experienced professional. “Just give it back. She’ll understand.”
I immediately thought ‘of course’, but it also crossed my mind that we got this far without getting caught so we might as well just leave with the magazine and I shaked my head with the thought and scolded myself for thinking such a thing.
I ran back into the store, apologized, and returned it to its proper place. The cashier just laughed and said, “I’ll let you go this time, but next time I’ll call the police.”
That was close *phew*
This was the first time I had ever stolen anything. Well, technically the first time I tried to “steal” something was when my brother and I were about 6 years old. We were at the mall with my mom. We found one of those “plastic thingies” they attach onto clothes on the ground. We thought they looked cool so we put them in out pocket and, when our mom was done shopping, we walked out of door only to have the alarms go off and scare the shit out of everyone in sight.
Turns out those “brown thingies” are what set the alarm off and those “brown thingies” were actually the attachments they put on clothes that release blue dye when you try to take them off. As soon as the alarm went off, my brother and I freaked the fuck out and immediately dropped them on the ground thinking we were caught.