I was in the check out line at Uniglo buying socks. A woman in front of me with T-shirts decided to steal one. I realized this because the tag of the shirt stuffed in her handbag was hanging out at half mast.
She was all of 20 and clearly not a very good thief. I know you need to somehow get rid of that little plastic thingamajig or all hell’s gonna break loose when you walk out the door.
Camille, the Bonnie Parker of pinched retail, taught me everything I know.
Mind your own business circled my head like Muzak, but I couldn’t help feeling she was put in front of me for a reason, like maybe I needed to reform her or at least teach her the ropes.
“Excuse me,” I whispered, “don’t take this wrong, but I see you have a shirt in your purse, and I think if you’re really going to try to…you know, steal it…you need to get rid of that tag.”
“Ah dun know whats yous talkin about. I pay now for whats I buy.”
So, she does then goes on her merry way. Within five minutes we hear an alarm. Yes sirree, Miss, ah dun know whats yous talkin about, was stopped on her way out.
I tried not to look as I passed but couldn’t help myself, especially when I heard her say,
“Hows that get in dere…eets a meestake.”