ShopliftingWhen I was young and impressionable and on holiday in France, I followed some friends into a sweet shop and we each stole something. I was so mortified by this, I returned them.
My lack of French hampered this somewhat - they had no idea why the small English boy wanted to add some chews to the open box, and saw it as an attempt by a nasty foreigner oik to contaminate their stock. Not my best day.
What have you lifted?
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chthonic, Thu 10 Jan 2008, 11:13)
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pub thefta few weeks ago i was out in the pub with a group of mates. this was back up in cheshire where the police have so little to do that i had once been threatened with arrest for walking out of a pub with a half pint glass.
so there we were, it was about midnight and it was vodka shot time.
the nice girl behind the bar produced these fabulous shot glasses - coincidentally there were 8 of us, and each shot glass in the 8 part set had a beautiful different coloured letter. all together the set spelt out:
S-M-I-R-N-O-F-F.
i wanted them for my flat so badly (although to put frozen grey goose or citrus absolut in, not smirnoff. mmm. frozen vodka. anyway.). badly enough to make everyone tip their shot down their throat and their glass into my handbag. even though my bag was tiny and bulged and clanked suspiciously. still. i was drunk and i was happy.
until a few minutes later. the formerly friendly barmaid came up to the table to collect the glasses. her eyes narrowed, her hands flew to her hips, and her lips thinned out.
"where are those shot glasses?" she hissed.
shit. shit.
"er, your colleague collected them," i stammered. she looked at my bulging bag.
"no he didn't. he's downstairs. we take a dim view on theft, you know."
shit. SHIT. not as dim as the law society's view and i'm a solicitor............
"he did," i insisted wildly, remembering the blues and twos that went off over the half pint episode all those years ago.
"i'll go and check," she snapped, and sashayed off down the stairs. quick as a flash, i jumped to my feet and fled down the back stair fire escape. oh my god the door was stuck... there were people everywhere... where was the goddam bar... shit, she's coming... finally i tipped the glasses in a heap on the bar and disappeared into the ladies just as she landed on the ground floor. thank fuck for that. criminal record avoided for this month, anyway.
i still reeeeeally want those shot glasses though.
i'd apologise for length, but it's better than working.
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rachelswipe with a fork, Wed 16 Jan 2008, 23:20,
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