Confessions of a Minor Thief
One day, I ventured to the
supermarket. Okay, this is not a big feat as it is one block from where I live.
Anyway, I saw that navel oranges were 5 for $1.00. So I put five in the bag and
took a look. For some reason, I felt this urge to steal an orange. After all,
what’s twenty cents, right? However, I wasn’t going to grab one and walk out
of the store. Can you imagine reading about the CEO of CampusNut.com in the
police blotter? For stealing a twenty cent orange. So I put six in a bag. But
that was too obvious, too. I know that supermarket employees don’t give a
damn. However, can you imagine the public humiliation as I try to explain why I
have six oranges in a bag when the sale clearly states that it is five? Either I
must not know how to count, or I’m trying to steal produce. So I fill the bag
with eleven oranges. Maybe I could get away with buying $2.00 worth and getting
a free orange. But, again, there was a slight chance that it was going to get
counted. Granted, some of the cashiers may not be able to count to ten, but why
risk it?
So I finally decided to fill the bag
with sixteen oranges. First, I was fairly certain that this amount wouldn’t be
counted. And if it were, I could tell them that I lost count. While it would
have been a poor excuse, I could finally get my extra orange. But I began
worrying about my shopping cart. I just have oranges. Perhaps, I could distract
the checkout clerk by having additional items on my shopping cart. So I began
filling my cart with cold cuts, ice cream, cookies, etc. As my turn came up in
the supermarket line, I began feeling nervous. I finally understand how drug
traffickers and smugglers must feel when they cross the American border. Okay,
that’s a hyperbole, but you get my point.
Finally, as all the items were
totaled, I felt victorious for having successfully laundered one contraband
orange. As I was leaving, I felt a rush of guilty pleasure as I had now joined
the ranks of O.J. Simpson and “Puff” Daddy as celebrity fugitives. And it
didn’t matter that I spent $40 to steal a 20-cent orange.
MORAL OF THIS STORY:
I want to give you five lessons from this story. Unlike Aesop’s fables, my
stories generally have five morals.
First, I want to let you know that crime does not pay. I spent $40 when all I
wanted was six oranges. Can you imagine how much money I would have lost if I
had wound up trying to steal an ear of corn when it was 3 for a dollar?
Second, I think I could have smuggled two oranges. After all, if there are at
least fifteen in a bag, couldn’t I have put in 17 or 18 and paid only $3? When
I realized this, I no longer felt one orange richer, but instead, two oranges
poorer.
Third, the oranges that I bought didn’t taste very good. I could see why
they were giving them away at 20 cents a piece. So there are 15 oranges rotting
in my refrigerator. So don’t buy oranges when they are out of season.
Fourth, I realized that you could “steal” in other ways. For example,
when you shop on Sundays, you can pick up the Sunday paper and steal the
coupons. Let’s face it. No one uses them. So if they are missing, no big deal,
right? So after my orange spree, I returned on Sunday to save myself a whole
$0.50 on a jar of pasta sauce. Of course, it wasn’t the brand that I would
have chosen (and that other brand was cheaper), I still managed to save 50
cents.
Fifth, nothing rhymes with orange.
NEXT TIME: Story of how I managed to save 20 cents at Burger King by
ordering a Rodeo Burger without sauce instead of ordering a Whopper, Jr. They
have the same ingredients and toppings. But the Rodeo Burger is 99 cents whereas
the Whopper, Jr. is $1.19. Yes, I had to argue with the cashier about my
insistence of wanting a Rodeo Burger without the BBQ sauce rather than getting
the Whopper, Jr., but I saved twenty cents.
