So I was eleven, right? The pair of earrings just caught my attention and enraptured me with their beauty. So I decided to take them from the store for my mom. I didn’t know about shoplifting at time; I knew it was wrong to take things without paying for them, but at that age it didn’t seem like a bit deal to me. I was just without money and I thought she’d like them.
She didn’t. She made me take them back and apoligize to the store manager. I was scarred for life.
Well, since that fateful day, I’ve been klepto clean. Haven’t even taken anything from any friends or any other place either.
What about you? What’s the last thing you’ve taken, stolen, or even the politically correct term, “borrowed”? Other stealing stories are welcome too if they are amusing, not nessasarily having to be the last thing you took.
When I was a freshman in high school, it was cool among me and my friends to shoplift. My older brother would give me pointers. He always came home with the most interesting things that he had taken. I remember one time he came home with a reel. I have no idea how he got that one.
Even my dad would “borrow” from time to time. When we would leave the store after we had bought a few items, he would inevitably throw his ill-gotten gains on the seat. Usually something like a magazine. I was also with him when he eventually got busted for shoplifting.
The last thing I took was a magazine. It was the swimsuit edition of Inside Sports. I wouldn’t have taken it if I weren’t so embarrassed about buying it. I was 14. I haven’t taken anything since.
I’m still a wild rebelious devil-may-care kind of guy. Why just a few months ago I stole a 9 cent bolt from Home Depot. I got out through the heavy security by the ingenious method of putting it in my pocket and walking through the doors.
Seriously I did steal it. It’s a place I have spent thousands of dollars at, and there were long lines. I also only had a credit card on me. It would have wasted more money for the store for me to take up a space in line, then charge it for 9 freaking cents. I would have told the manager if one of the ones I knew was there, but none of them were so I turned to a life of crime.
In 7th grade, my class went to a museum. We visited the gift shop, which had a few sheets of paper stapled together that had egyptian heiroglyphics on them. They were selling this for $3.00, which I thought was crazy. I didn’t have any money on me, so I peeled off the sticker on the back that had the price, and walked out. If I got caught, I planned to apologize profusely, and explain that I thought they were free because I didn’t see a price sticker on them.
When I recently left Alaska, I “stole” a huge comfy bath sheet from my former boyfriend/still best friend/maybe boyfriend again someday (it’s complicated), kinda guy.
Last thing I stole before that was a kitten when I was about 4 years old. I snuck it into the car, and once my parents and I were almost home it finally meowed.
My parents wanted to know how it got there, and I innocently said “oh, it must have climbed in” (ummm, right this was an OLD 50s car, a studebaker or something, approximately 8 inches off the ground, suffice it to say that I had to be lifted into the car by my parents.
The kitten was only about 4 weeks old, my parents drove all the way back, and made me go tell the owners of the mama cat what I’d done. (wish MORE parents these days would stand up for the right things in life like that).
Funny thing was, once the kitten was old enough, my parents let me have it, we went back and got her. So I learned two lessons, don’t steal, and when you come clean and do right, sometimes you get rewarded for it.