Another Day...

Mary Ann De Lacerna
4 days ago
2 min read

I felt the best time would be the middle of the afternoon. The store wouldn't be as busy then. I was right; not too many people crowded the aisles. I tried to relax and look casual, but at the same time, my eyes were scanning the landscape.

The usual workers were on duty. I felt stressed that they recognized me. Now was not the time for friendly greetings. I grabbed a cart and started my quest. As I put things into it, my eyes darted around for cameras. Of course, I didn't see any; you never do.

I rounded the aisles back and forth, trying to decide my strategy for the day. I settled on my old stand-by. I'd fetch the items to be stolen first, stash them away, continue shopping for the items I intended to pay for, and coolly make my way to the checkout. I'd done it a million times before.

At the register, I made small talk with the cashier. I liked her, and I knew she liked me. It alleviated my guilt and gave me a sense of security. Stealing was OK as long as I was polite to the hired help, right? As she finished ringing me up, bagging my goods, and accepting my payment, I breathed a sigh of relief. Mission accomplished, case closed, and I'm out.

I'd made it halfway down the street when I heard a loud, stern voice say, "Miss, Miss, Miss...". My heart sank, and I panicked as I raised both my hands in the air. The National Enquirer magazine I'd stashed under my arm fell to the concrete. I just knew I was going to jail. Logical excuses started flooding my mind. Slowly, I turned to face my future.

"Here, Miss, you forgot your umbrella. It is supposed to rain later."

My life of crime wasn't quite over yet.