When Curt's mum called the second time, I really had no idea what the hell was going on. After all, Curt and I stole and we were busted on it. We hid the other stuff but as it ended up we were busted on that as well. But there was nothing else I was hiding from that day, and so why the second call? Furthermore, why was the issue so important that it warranted his family coming to my home to speak with my parents?
Curt lived a few blocks south of me, but the wait for him, his mother, and his mother's boyfriend to arrive felt like forever. I remember thinking "what else did I do?" and while the term "FML" had not yet been invented, I was certainly feeling it that evening. When Curt and company arrived at my home, his parents sat at the table with my parents while Curt and I sat at the kitchen bar. And then the reason for their appearance was made clear.
After Curt's temper tantrum at his home (which, if my reader recalls, caused his jacket to smash against the wall and thus reveal that he had stolen goods in all the pockets), something happened in Curt's mind. To this day I do not know why he chose this path, but it's neither here nor there for the sake of the story.
Curt called his father and explained what he did. Curt then proceeded to go downstairs with a garbage bag and filled it with all the crap that he ever stole. He took the bag upstairs to his mother and her boyfriend and confessed to stealing all the junk in the huge black garbage bag. WTF?
Even worse, the dude then told his mother that I had also been a part of the crime sprees and I had loads of stolen merchandise in my home as well! WHAT THE FUCK?
Basically Curt felt it was both his right and his duty to drag me under the surface with him. I won't lie...I wasn't going to steal again. The game was over. I played well but ended up losing. And the consequences weren't worth the rush. I'm sure Curt felt the same way. So WHY did he confess to stealing anything else? We could have easily unloaded it at the Salvation Army so that it would all go to the less fortunate (after all, we didn't care about any of it). All this "cleansing" did was as follows:
All the parents were quickly in agreement. Curt and I would have to return every stolen item that we had taken and pay for them as well. THEN the items would be donated. I was livid. I know, I know...it was the right thing to do to make us own up to our mistakes and the businesses deserved to be compensated for their losses. But we learned our lesson before Curt turned to the light side of the Force. So from the point of view of a kid, Curt succeeded only in costing him a fortune!
Once the parents finished their lecture, I was ordered to go downstairs and get everything packed up so that my parents could take me to all the stores to return everything the following evening. While I was in the crawlspace in the basement, I picked out several items that were really expensive and stashed them elsewhere. I was going to save as much money as I could! Curt came downstairs while I was getting everything out. I figured he came down to apologize for being such a twat, but I assumed wrong. The first thing he said to me was "what about the controller?" To elaborate, he saw the pile of stuff that I had taken out from the crawlspace and realized that a Sega Genesis controller that I stole from Game Dudes was not in the pile. The controller was used. For those of you unfamiliar with Game Dudes, it was a video game rental store. There was also a back room filled with televisions and video game systems. You would pay a small fee and get to play a video game of your choice in the game room for a half hour (or more, depending on how much you paid). I took the controller from the game room as there was a spare one at the time...impulse and opportunity were a bad mix. I was a big customer at Game Dudes at the time and had a strong rapport with the owner. The last thing I wanted was to have to face her and tell her that I stole from her...while every other store was faceless, I knew her quite well. It was an awful prospect. I asked him to forget about the controller...just the controller, but he outright refused. He was punishing me unnecessarily. I could have easily smuggled the controller back into Game Dudes and no one would have been any the wiser. But Curt wouldn't allow it and he had me by the balls. I either handed it in or he would tell on me and I'd have to hand it in anyway. I added the controller to the loot and turned it into my parents. A short while later, Curt and co. left my home. It was late, so I went to bed.
In the morning, I was feeling embarrassed and pissed off. But I had to get to school, so I went through the morning routine. About ten minutes before I had to leave to walk to school, the phone rang. Oh no...no no no no...not something ELSE from Curt's mother. But it was actually Curt himself. Usually Curt came by on the way to school and we would walk the rest of the way, so I thought he was calling to say he wasn't going to stop by (good idea since I would tear his nuts off and feed them to the ugly smelly girl down the street). Sadly, I assumed wrong again. "What about the Halloween mask, Dave? What about the Star Wars miniatures too?" Thinking someone else may have been listening on the phone, I said I never stole anything like what he was asking. Those items (as with all the other expensive items I hid the evening before were now stashed above the hanging ceiling in my bedroom, so no one would find them should they have searched. Curt didn't argue. He just said okay and that he'd see me at school.
It was a long day at school...mainly because I was dreading the embarrassment of walking up to managers and other employees at a variety of stores and confessing that I shoplifted. I was also not looking forward to seeing the bill at the end. As I figured, it was very hard for me to return the controller to Game Dudes. I nearly cried because I felt so shitty about it. I never stole from anyone else I knew during my klepto-blitz.
In the end, the bill was quite large. Over $500 if I recall correctly...and that was in 1992 or 93. And that didn't include all the pricey stuff I omitted from the goodies I handed over. So in the end, my impulse control disorder ended up giving me a criminal record as well as costing me over $500. It also cost me a friend. Curt and I still hung out from time to time, but it was never the same. We were no longer the friends we were. Betrayal does that to a friendship.
I do recall one morning a few weeks after the bust. Curt had started to stop by in the mornings to walk with me to school again. On the morning in question, when Curt arrived he looked me right in the eyes and said "Can I get my Playboy calendar?" Yes, as I stated in the first part of this trilogy, I once stole Playboy calendars from a gas station from right under the nose of the cashier. One for me and one for Curt. But a lot happened since then. I still had the calendars safely hidden. I first flipped out and told him that I wouldn't give him a fucking calendar after he dimed me out the way he did. He dismissed his actions with a "whatever, what's done is done." I wanted to bite him in the spine I was so angry. But I also learned a lot about Curt and how he couldn't be trusted because of his betrayal. Therefore, I then told him the calendars were destroyed and thrown in the garbage the day after we were busted. With Curt thinking the evidence was destroyed, he wouldn't try and blackmail me into giving him one under threat of him reporting the theft to his parents. We left for school, all the while I struggled to restrain myself from punching him in the eye.
There you have it. A tale of adventure, a tale of suspense, a tale of betrayal, and a tale of mental disorder. Oh, and a tale of becoming bitch-ass poor. Curt and I drifted apart and barely even talked after a few months had passed since being caught. But I don't hold a grudge against him now. That was a long time ago and while I still don't understand his actions, hating him for them now seems silly and meaningless. However, while I forgive, I will never forget.
At the end of this story, some of you are probably wondering.
"Did he ever steal again?"
The answer is yes. But that's a story for another day!
Showing posts with label shoplifting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label shoplifting. Show all posts
Friday, September 10, 2010
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
The Rush
Being a teenager growing up in Airdrie Alberta in the 1990s was pretty brutal. Sure, the super-cool teens were busy on the football team or having unprotected sex with cheerleaders, but I was not a part of that crowd. And for the rest of the kids in their teen years, Airdrie was a barren wasteland.
My parents didn't understand how I could be bored with so much to offer...we had a comic book store, a movie theatre (2 screen microplex), and the iconic Towerlane Mall. But there's only so much time even a geek such as myself could spend in a comic book store. There were only ever two movies playing in any given week, and almost always they were lame family films. And Towerlane Mall was a graveyard. Half the stores were closed and the others were either of no interest to me or too expensive. Speaking of expense, I was living off of allowance and $10 a week didn't go very far. So I was left to my own devices.
Being ADD, I needed a great deal of stimulation to avoid being bored. If anything, it's even worse today! While so many people can sit down and read a book as a source of pleasure, I wouldn't be able to maintain focus on the book, instead reading a page only to find out I didn't really know what I read. Others might take joy from art, and while I was a decent artist (of comic book heroes mostly), I was never satisfied with my work and so I was left frustrated instead of satisfied (that's what she said). Television was a nice way to pass time, but at the time of this story I didn't have my own television and so I was at the mercy of my dad who always chose what channel the television would be on.
Now that I've set the stage, you can understand just how boring a small city was for anyone in their teens, especially anyone like me. And now you can better understand why I did what I shall tell you about now.
In junior high and high school, I had a friend named Curtis. He was a good guy and we hung out a lot. But he was just as bored with Airdrie as I was. One day while we were at a mall (incidentally this was in Calgary), we were in San Francisco (the store). I found a cool pen with a lady on it. When the pen was tipped, her clothes would come off and leave a hot naked lady. I was 15, so even something so mundane made my pants tight. However, I didn't have the money to purchase the pen. I put the pen back and shuffled around the store angrily because I couldn't have my way. Until I realised that I COULD have my way. I returned to the pen and I took it. Walking through the store, I hid it in my pocket and then Curt and I left the store.
The rush is what I liked. I felt something so intense from shoplifting. It was just a $3 pen, but the thrill was worth $1000. Unfortunately, one taste was not enough. I began walking down a dark road.
Curt was something of a partner in crime. I rarely stole anything unless he was around. We always were pretty equal when it came to volume of things stolen as well. On boring days (such as weekends), Curt and I would literally go out to the retail center of Airdrie on a thieving binge. And we were good. I remember stealing playboy calendars from a gas station while the cash attendant was talking and looking at us (I hid them in the back of my shirt). I remember stealing a can of Pringles by sliding it up my sleeve. I remember having Curt distract the employee at a music store while I took a cassette tape (this was when CDs were still in their youth and cassettes were very popular)...sure, a cassette tape is small, but the anti-theft containment device was about three cassette tapes long.
Curt and I would steal anything and everything if opportunity knocked...and the more daring the theft, the bigger and better the rush. I cannot speak for Curtis, but for me it was a definite case of kleptomania. I never really cared about anything I stole. Usually we stole toys and things like that because they were smaller and we could take more, but I would just throw everything into a box in the basement and forget about it. I just liked to steal for the sake of stealing. And it was awesome.
After about two months, our game was really being stepped up. One day after school, my mum drove Curt and me over to Towerlane Mall. She quickly did the shopping she had and then said she was leaving. I told my mum that Curt and I would stay for a while because we were going to "hit the mall." Truer words never spoken. My mum left and Curt and I went batshit with thieving. I was wearing a t-shirt, a denim shirt over it with the denim shirt's buttons mostly undone. The denim shirt was tucked in, and so I was able to put stolen goods into the shirt all the way around my body and it would all stay there until I got home. I then wore a light leather jacket and a heavier Chicago Bulls leather jacket over it. It was November so the layers were not out of place. However, my purpose was not warmth but hiding places. So many pockets were available for me to hide things. On the day in question, I took advantage of EVERY space I had available to me (not THOSE spaces though, you perverts).
After we "hit" the mall, Curt and I began walking back home. On the way, we stopped by Pharmasave, which was obviously a drug store but also something of a small department store. Curt and I walked around the store, checking for cameras (our code when we saw a camera was to say "Have you seen Cam?") and mirrors (our code when we saw mirrors was to say "Have you seen Vladmir?"). We also were checking for floor-walkers. If you are unsure what a floor-walker is, it is a person hired by the store to pretend to be a customer, but actually to watch for thieves. There was a floor-walker present in the store. He was easy to spot for a floor-walker, which isn't saying much as they are usually pretty obvious. He was a younger man alone. He wore expensive brand-name clothes. He was stylish. He didn't belong in that store and even if someone like him was shopping there, he was shopping in the baby supplies aisle and then the candy aisle (both aisles next to the ones Curt and I were in to test him). Those aisles are very different and so why would he be looking in both? If it was a Wal-Mart, it would make more sense, but no one would shop at Pharmasave for such different things. There was a chance that he could have been legitimate, but Curt and I were confident he was a floor-walker.
Knowing our enemy was watching us made the thrill all the greater. Curt and I went to the toy department and split up. We both stole one item quickly and then rejoined before leaving the store. It was just another day, another hit. We walked out together, laughing all the way. However, things weren't meant to be as smooth as we thought. We walked about twenty paces from the door when we suddenly heard a voice behind us. "Excuse me gentlemen...I believe you have something that doesn't belong to you." My heart sank. Busted. We turned around and it was the floor-walker. Curt and I had so much opportunity to run. He couldn't get us both, and I doubt he would even get one of us if we were clever. But we caved. I guess the thrill of running from the law didn't appeal to us.
Thefloor-walker asshole took us back into the store into the employee area. He requested the items we stole and Curt and I both gave him the items. They were just stupid toys, which made us feel somewhat embarrassed...if I was busted for shoplifting, it should have been something fucking awesome! But stupid toys it was. We sat there for what felt like forever. He made us call our parents and so Curt's mum and her boyfriend came and my dad came. I remember sitting in a chair and leaning over the desk (I was pretending to cry for pity when I was actually just pissed off). My dad said to me "I bet you feel pretty stupid now."
Eventually, a cop came in and arrested us. No cuffs or anything, but we did get a ride in the back of his squad car. All the way to the police station. And that's when the real fun began...
Stay tuned for part two!
My parents didn't understand how I could be bored with so much to offer...we had a comic book store, a movie theatre (2 screen microplex), and the iconic Towerlane Mall. But there's only so much time even a geek such as myself could spend in a comic book store. There were only ever two movies playing in any given week, and almost always they were lame family films. And Towerlane Mall was a graveyard. Half the stores were closed and the others were either of no interest to me or too expensive. Speaking of expense, I was living off of allowance and $10 a week didn't go very far. So I was left to my own devices.
Being ADD, I needed a great deal of stimulation to avoid being bored. If anything, it's even worse today! While so many people can sit down and read a book as a source of pleasure, I wouldn't be able to maintain focus on the book, instead reading a page only to find out I didn't really know what I read. Others might take joy from art, and while I was a decent artist (of comic book heroes mostly), I was never satisfied with my work and so I was left frustrated instead of satisfied (that's what she said). Television was a nice way to pass time, but at the time of this story I didn't have my own television and so I was at the mercy of my dad who always chose what channel the television would be on.
Now that I've set the stage, you can understand just how boring a small city was for anyone in their teens, especially anyone like me. And now you can better understand why I did what I shall tell you about now.
In junior high and high school, I had a friend named Curtis. He was a good guy and we hung out a lot. But he was just as bored with Airdrie as I was. One day while we were at a mall (incidentally this was in Calgary), we were in San Francisco (the store). I found a cool pen with a lady on it. When the pen was tipped, her clothes would come off and leave a hot naked lady. I was 15, so even something so mundane made my pants tight. However, I didn't have the money to purchase the pen. I put the pen back and shuffled around the store angrily because I couldn't have my way. Until I realised that I COULD have my way. I returned to the pen and I took it. Walking through the store, I hid it in my pocket and then Curt and I left the store.
The rush is what I liked. I felt something so intense from shoplifting. It was just a $3 pen, but the thrill was worth $1000. Unfortunately, one taste was not enough. I began walking down a dark road.
Curt was something of a partner in crime. I rarely stole anything unless he was around. We always were pretty equal when it came to volume of things stolen as well. On boring days (such as weekends), Curt and I would literally go out to the retail center of Airdrie on a thieving binge. And we were good. I remember stealing playboy calendars from a gas station while the cash attendant was talking and looking at us (I hid them in the back of my shirt). I remember stealing a can of Pringles by sliding it up my sleeve. I remember having Curt distract the employee at a music store while I took a cassette tape (this was when CDs were still in their youth and cassettes were very popular)...sure, a cassette tape is small, but the anti-theft containment device was about three cassette tapes long.
Curt and I would steal anything and everything if opportunity knocked...and the more daring the theft, the bigger and better the rush. I cannot speak for Curtis, but for me it was a definite case of kleptomania. I never really cared about anything I stole. Usually we stole toys and things like that because they were smaller and we could take more, but I would just throw everything into a box in the basement and forget about it. I just liked to steal for the sake of stealing. And it was awesome.
After about two months, our game was really being stepped up. One day after school, my mum drove Curt and me over to Towerlane Mall. She quickly did the shopping she had and then said she was leaving. I told my mum that Curt and I would stay for a while because we were going to "hit the mall." Truer words never spoken. My mum left and Curt and I went batshit with thieving. I was wearing a t-shirt, a denim shirt over it with the denim shirt's buttons mostly undone. The denim shirt was tucked in, and so I was able to put stolen goods into the shirt all the way around my body and it would all stay there until I got home. I then wore a light leather jacket and a heavier Chicago Bulls leather jacket over it. It was November so the layers were not out of place. However, my purpose was not warmth but hiding places. So many pockets were available for me to hide things. On the day in question, I took advantage of EVERY space I had available to me (not THOSE spaces though, you perverts).
After we "hit" the mall, Curt and I began walking back home. On the way, we stopped by Pharmasave, which was obviously a drug store but also something of a small department store. Curt and I walked around the store, checking for cameras (our code when we saw a camera was to say "Have you seen Cam?") and mirrors (our code when we saw mirrors was to say "Have you seen Vladmir?"). We also were checking for floor-walkers. If you are unsure what a floor-walker is, it is a person hired by the store to pretend to be a customer, but actually to watch for thieves. There was a floor-walker present in the store. He was easy to spot for a floor-walker, which isn't saying much as they are usually pretty obvious. He was a younger man alone. He wore expensive brand-name clothes. He was stylish. He didn't belong in that store and even if someone like him was shopping there, he was shopping in the baby supplies aisle and then the candy aisle (both aisles next to the ones Curt and I were in to test him). Those aisles are very different and so why would he be looking in both? If it was a Wal-Mart, it would make more sense, but no one would shop at Pharmasave for such different things. There was a chance that he could have been legitimate, but Curt and I were confident he was a floor-walker.
Knowing our enemy was watching us made the thrill all the greater. Curt and I went to the toy department and split up. We both stole one item quickly and then rejoined before leaving the store. It was just another day, another hit. We walked out together, laughing all the way. However, things weren't meant to be as smooth as we thought. We walked about twenty paces from the door when we suddenly heard a voice behind us. "Excuse me gentlemen...I believe you have something that doesn't belong to you." My heart sank. Busted. We turned around and it was the floor-walker. Curt and I had so much opportunity to run. He couldn't get us both, and I doubt he would even get one of us if we were clever. But we caved. I guess the thrill of running from the law didn't appeal to us.
The
Eventually, a cop came in and arrested us. No cuffs or anything, but we did get a ride in the back of his squad car. All the way to the police station. And that's when the real fun began...
Stay tuned for part two!
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