Sunday, March 30, 2008

Bad apple, bad example.

Hi. My name is Complainy Pants...and I am a klepto.

I just shoplifted from the grocery store. It really wasn't my fault. It was a misunderstanding. I thought the grocery store was giving me the items. Ok, that's a lie. Here's how the "heist" went down:

Baby boy screams. I enter grocery store with fierce determination to do shopping regardless. I zip through the store grabbing at aisles while I slow to a roll but never stop. I zig, I zag I narrowly miss carts and old people's toes. As I eye my items on the shelf ahead I glance at the stroller basket and determine where there is space to toss it in. I grab small gouda cheese and toss. I grab sweet potatoes and toss. I grab tortilla chips and must reach around baby boy to toss them in front portion of basket. This is very difficult and requires a lot of skill, I'll have you know. I never stop. Baby boy calms down and actually goes to sleep. I breathe a sigh of relief and continue to shop while never stopping-only now I can do the "mama-dance"-the "back-and-forth-stroller-two-step" and he won't wake up.

But boy, all this running and strolling and the anxiety has made me thirsty. Oh look-the refrigerated drinks. I'll just grab a Gatorade, sip it now and pay when I get checked out. I used to do this all the time when I was pregnant and couldn't make it through a shop without fortifying liquids! No problem.

So I finish up and head to the line up, only every single cash has a lineup snaking all the way around the magasine racks and into the cookie aisle. Damn! But then I notice the "self-checkouts" are totally free. Of course once I scoot over there, three people are already in front of me. So I line up, then promptly get to the check out and start unloading the basket. Now, I don't have to tell you that my anxiety level ran high just then-the stroller had to be still for me to unload and bleep the items so I feared baby waking up any second.

Bleep, bag, (listen to annoying chick voice tell me how much it is), Bleep, bag etc. Choose the menu, punch in tomatoes, wait for tomatoes to weigh, bleep, bag, An unidentified item is detected in the bagging area, remove tomato, still an unidentified item in bagging area, remove whole bag, "do not remove bags until all items have been scanned", put bag back, ready for next item, Bleep, bag, etc etc, etc.

My cell phone rings. I look at the caller ID and see it is an unfamiliar local number. I decide to answer. It is my girlfriend calling from the hospital! She had a baby girl yesterday! YAY! I have the sneaking suspicion someone is staring at me so I check over my shoulder and there is Beefy-McHell's Angels Dirtbag, next in line, breathing down my neck. Tell my friend congrats but must go as I am in self checkout, self checking-out. Hang up and hear a whine. Whine. Whimper. I scurry to bleep remaining items, swipe debit. Damn! I punched the wrong F%$king PIN! *WAIL, WAIL, WAIL! McHell huffs. I sweat. Grab receipt and stroll out of his way narrowly avoiding his B.O. wafting toward me as he jumps on the checkout before annoying chick voice can even finish telling me thank you for shopping. Sigh. Baby is crying.

Get to car, open car. Put crying baby in car. Go back to the back of car, load grocery bags into one side of trunk. Take diaper bag out of stroller basket, put that in trunk. Turn back to stroller to break it down-What the F#@k is that?!?! Oh goddamn all to hell, its the gouda. F$&k. Kick stroller. Check price of gouda: $5.89. Look toward grocery store sign and say "Thank you!". Throw gouda in on top of groceries. Grab stroller handle...and oh my goddddddddd. There's my Gatorade in my cup holder. Well not really MY Gatorade now was it? I didn't pay for it. I hear baby scream and make a executive decision. Throw stroller in trunk and slam the doors, sealing myself in with screaming baby boy.

Justification: there is no way I could have remained a sane and kind mother if I had to pack screaming baby boy back into stroller, or even take him stiff body and bones in my arms, back into that store. Someone would have been hurt. Probably Beefy McHell, or maybe even sweet cherub-faced Dan the checkout boy. So, I vow to donate 5.89 and 1.99 for the Gatorade to the food bank next time I go to the grocery store. Really, I only vow to do that because I stole these items, and made the wrong decision not to bring them back in and pay, right in front of my son. If he weren't around...well, I'm a bad apple.

Brings to light how easy it is to steal though, doesn't it? Not one clerk spotted my unpaid gouda, no alarms went off, no citizen arrested me. If you saw me at the grocery store strolling off with a hot Gatorade...would you say anything?

No comments: