free sweets & fags
don't ever tell kids but the real way to steal sweets is:-

but them in your mate's pocket, then retrieve them when at a safe distance from the shop

obviously, not telling the friend gives you the kudos of being a risk taking rebel, but really you're a devious coward

we broke into the fag machine in the JCR at uni by smashing the little glass window. i didn't even smoke. they don't do fag machine windows any more...probably our fault

oh and mp3s...ha ha, goodbye EMI
(Darth Vodka, Wed 16 Jan 2008, 17:49, Reply)

Not technically shoplifting but...
I used to help out a mate (let's call him Mark) of mine who collected scrap cars. One day he comes round to mine to pick up one of my 'dead' bangers from the weekends racing, so we stick that on the back of the lorry and on the way have a look at a Vauxhall that someone had asked him to take.

We eventually find a Gold Vauxhall Cavalier (pay attention this is relevant)in a car park behind some flats in the rabbit warren that is one of the Crawley housing estates.
Problem is there's no keys to be found and we the bloke isn't answering his phone.

Mark comes up with the bright idea of towing it back to the yard behind the lorry with me driving, to be fair it was only a few miles and the car didn't look that bad. So we break in, disable the steeing lock and off we go.
After an eventfull journey (no brakes and very notchy steering)we get back to the yard and decide to have a look in the boot, only to find it full of kids toys, golf clubs and other stuff.

Finally the bloke who's car it is rings back to ask why we haven't taken his car yet....oops, his was a Red Vauxhall Chevette in the next car park along...bugger.

Mark then craps his pants, as he's been a bit of a naughty boy in the past and is well known to the local police, and decides to fess up and phone the local plod. I could actually hear the laughter on the other end of the phone as the rozzers heard the sorry tale. Their advice was 'put it back where you found it...quickly'
So we did.
Apologies for length and all that muck.
( UKAC let me sniff your diff, Wed 16 Jan 2008, 17:32, Reply)

I've always wanted to play the pub theft game
where you go on a pub crawl and steal something from each pub which is bigger than the last thing you stole.

So you start off stealing matches and end up trying to lug a fruit machine or a pool table out without the landlord noticing.

Most I've actually stolen is the usual - pint and half pint glasses.
( rhebus ac201fd270c3b96beab24f2829780ab2, Wed 16 Jan 2008, 16:40, Reply)

cow
I once tried to steal a raw cow from Smithfields market.
I had underestimated how heavy they are. After a minute of heaving I noticed a small goup of jeering butchers enjoying the show. They sent me on my way with a free pork chop for my efforts.
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Wed 16 Jan 2008, 16:22, 5 replies)

in the labs at uni
i spend a good couple of days rooting around the cupboard where the beakers were kept in order to pilfer enough 25ml beakers to make a set of shot glasses, after gathering up about 6 of them i carefully wrapped them in my lab coat so they would survive the journey home

the next day i return to uni, get out my note book my pencil case, my safety specs and finally my lab coat, and crash i had forgotten to take the bastard things out of my bag when i got home, i now had a lot of tidying up and explaining to do
( Reme Philips laid an epic dump on, Wed 16 Jan 2008, 16:10, Reply)

What else can you fit in there?
Being a woman, it is a given that anywhere I go, I have to take a handbag. Being a huge nerd, it is a given that my handbag is huge enough to carry about 6 notebooks should the situation call for it. And being a student, it is a given that my friends and I will invariably want to own things that we cannot find the will to purchase.
Usually, this happens in bars as friends of mine have a particular weakness for cocktail glasses. And as I am usually the one with the biggest bag, the task of swiping these items usually falls to me.

In the last year I was been the mule for: 12 brightly coloured plastic beakers from a club, two Cosmopolitan glasses from our favourite bar, a daiquiri glass from a bar which is so expensive anyway they can afford the loss, and a brandy glass and a miniature gravy boat from the local branch of Wetherspoons.

The miniature gravy boat was stolen because the girl in question thought it was 'cute', not thinking that she would have no use for a miniature gravy boat whilst living in a catered Halls of Residence, or ever, as her cooking skills are lacking. I had to stuff it full of napkins to stop it getting gravy all over my bag. She gave it to her mother, who proceeded to enquire what she would do with a mini gravy boat.

I have also been made to smuggle out various beer mats because my boyfriend collects them, and he is convinced that people will mind if he is seen taking them.
(chronicwhimsy, Wed 16 Jan 2008, 15:41, 1 reply)

Sandwhich shop
During some good times at 6th form myself and about 6 other lads used to go to the sarnie shop down the road.
Now this shop was run by 3 old women who were not the smartest of beans. Was only a small shop and sweets,drinks and chrisps were displayed on the counter. Also due to the fact that when the orders were taken in the 3 women turned round at exactly the same time and began cooking for minutes on end without turning around we began taking advantage of this situation.
It began with the odd freddo from 1 or 2 of us moved up to 3 or 4 freddo's and a chomp or curly wurly as the weeks went by untill eventually we were all robbing about £2's worth of chocolate drinks etc...
However one day there must of been at least 12 of us went down and one person who shall remane nameless as i didnt no his name ... but he slyly ( i say slyly he basically picked it up and walked out ) but ye he picked up a freshly opened box of curly wurly's there must of been at least 75 of them and just walked out.
safe to say they stopped putting stuff on the counter after that.
there was also a slight air of guilt hanging over us all.
pity as well they did some nice sandwhiches.
* insert poorly assembled penis sized joke here*
( Mr Nerdy-Speccy-FuckNuts Ouchy ouchy wa wa!, Wed 16 Jan 2008, 15:16, Reply)

Vending machines
I used to work as part of an IT support helpdesk, due to the global support we provided it meant working a 24x5 in shifts.

In the staff room was a vending machine - which - if you have ever worked nights when there are no shops open, becomes the focus of your breaks.

One night i had put money in for a Nestle Crunch bar, typed the coordinate number, but it didn’t fall out. So i tipped the machine sideways to give it some persuasion - result!! Two bars fell out.

With a raise of one eyebrow, i spot a pack of Polos hanging precariously. I give it another ‘shake’ Double result – Crisps and Polos fell out.

All for 42p.

I Continue this practice for about a week until the vending machine was looking quite bare. I kept it a secret knowing it could quite easily get me fired. Then a bout 3 weeks later on night shift again, the previous shift was just leaving when I heard the unmistaken bangs coming from the staff room. I go to investigate…

When I get there I find my co-worker and my Manager doing my trick. On the floor next to their feet was all sorts – chocolate bars, smints, crisps, pork pies – the lot. They were giggling in a very hushed evil/silly manner – they knew it was wrong, but they were getting such brilliant rewards. They see me and quickly freeze. The manager then quickly shuts the door and says in a hushed manner ’you didn’t see us doing this, but we’ve been doing this for a few weeks now and get everything for free – isn’t that great!?!?’

I quickly dismiss their antics and take the moral high ground – knowing that this could quite easily save my arse if I ever get collard.

This went on for about 3 months – I don’t know how the guy who refilled it (who was from a 3rd party company) didn’t click…

Length ? it was about 6’ x 4’ x 5’ and weighed like b@stard.
(Dan dan dan They tik urh jerbs!!!, Wed 16 Jan 2008, 14:44, 5 replies)

Shells.
As a younger Guilt, I was a little swotty bastard of a student, with a painful streak of law and rule abiding-ness (Still am to a certain extent) one of them ones where if you were with the teacher being taught how to read and the like (yes, that young) and was stuck on a word that would lean over your shoulder and tell you the right pronunciation and have a smarmy little grin plastered on his face.

Anyways, as I said, I was painfully law abiding and the like, taking a sweet when I was not allowed was a cardinal sin and I would be swept straight up into the maws of Satan's festering anus. But one thing made me go against the grain, one thing more precious than all was worth risking my eternal soul...

It was a fucking sea shell.

We had a little collection of interesting rocks and sea shells in one corner of the class room, that our tutor would add to every now and again. One day this one shell was added. It was like a coloured, speckly tightly bound turd from the sea and it was to be mine. So I planned and planned, I did not want the shell to be kept about my person once the heist had been pulled of, in case I was searched and found out. So come the day I swiped the shell just as every 1 else was going out for playtime, so no one would see and ran to the cloakroom to hide the precious in my PE kit bag.

Childrens minds what they are, I soon forgot of my illicit cargo because CHRIST IT WAS PLAYTIME, LETS PLAY TIG!

Come PE the next day, I get on my kit and we all toddle down to the hall to do whatever form of sport a young child can, and while warming up it happens. The precious falls from my shorts where it had hidden itself!

Oh the shame.
Oh the horror!
Oh... no ones noticed.

I swipe the shell up, and so wracked with guilt and near shitting myself at almost been caught and sent to prison am I that I pocket the shell and wait till next lunch time to put it back in its place.

I think my soul is safe now. At least from the repercussions of shell thievery...
(Guilt wants to get in your moist confines, Wed 16 Jan 2008, 14:06, Reply)

Slightly off topic
A few years back when I was a student in Dundee. A mate and I had been at a flat party. They had a pool table in their kitchen. Said mate and I found this vastly entertaining being both drunk and too skint (or cheap) to play it in the pub at a £1 a go. SO eventually half 6 in the morning rolls around and one of the lads that lived in the flat got up to have a dump (everyone bar me and my mate LONG since having gone to bed) and politely asked us to get the fuck out. We thought this might be a good idea.

So as we're staggering into the sunrise we see a traffic sign. You know, one of those "road closed" ones. Well, my mate half inched the fucker and set about a mile away in front of some school gates. But our story does not end there. Oh no.

We're about ten minutes away from our flat and I decide "I want THAT!" "that" was the "private" part of a sign that collectively read "No Entry. Private Parking." With Private on its own placcard like thing and all three bits screwed to some board...thing. Out comes the swiss army knife and between the two of us we spent what seemed an hour (but must have been about 5 minutes) unscrewing the half dozen screws with a bottle opener before casually strolling home, collapsing into our own rooms and forgetting about the sign til tea dinner time. The sign was then exchanged between our doors depending on who had a lady in.
(Teran Thinks Pogonophobia is funny, Wed 16 Jan 2008, 13:55, Reply)

OMFG SHHHHHH!
.....I once stole a 10p refresher bar and a pen from a multipack!!! OMFG i hope the pigs aint watching! :O :S

oo i had some help with the pen! was reet scary!
(Lexachu A buh? no, not a buh, a bomb!, Wed 16 Jan 2008, 13:49, Reply)

Computer thievery, Mass Shop Lifting, and Stolen Tunes…
Just thought I’d share three occurrences to add to this weeks QOTW.

(1) Many moon ago, in the early 1990s (around 1992), a couple of mates of mine were pretty much off the rails and were up for any form of mentalist high jinx, no matter how illegal or moral.

They were best mates of mine, and one of them in particular my folks were quite fond of.. He actually used to call over and hang out with them if I was out the house, because he would be invariably be locked out by his Mum for one reason or another. Anyway, one day he invited me over, and he was quite excited about something he wouldn’t tell me about. And, it was a change from the latest pr0n tapes or "discovered" jazz mags.

We went to his room, and low and behold there was an RM Nimbus that he had lifted from the secondary school that we used to go to. The very same one that DID live in the library block until relatively recently. I couldn’t believe that he and his accomplice stole said computer.

He retells the story, and it was quite amusing. As when they walked off the school grounds into the forestry that surrounded it (with the PC covered by a blanket) they actually stumbled into the school governor walking his dog, and they had a natter for five minutes. Said school governor was completely unaware of what they were carrying.

He also used to lift VHS cassettes for me from the school, which was around the time that The Mary Whitehouse Experience and Bottom were on TV for the first time. My folks were too tight fisted to buy me a packet of VHS cassettes, so he took it upon himself to steal several tapes to order, so that I could record said comedy programmes. I even set the timer on my VCR so that it was set to AV1 so that it blanked the VHS tapes overnight until they were all cleared. Took about a week, doing one a night.

And what did said secondary school implement as a new security feature to stop anything else getting robbed? Some CCTV?, a pack of homicidal Doberman's looked after by the school caretaker? None of these...

They screwed the windows down in places of the school where there was anything valuable to be stolen (notably, the I.T. rooms, and the back of the library that was home to a network of Link 480Z's). In this day, this would be a severe Health & Safety issue where the school would have the book thrown at them!

(2) I knew of someone indirectly that used to pilfer CD’s from Music Zone many, many moons ago. Said person actually went as far as carefully sellotaping the CD’s and booklets carefully to their legs before going home. They used to buy the cases separately, and sometimes had a pop at smuggling rare imports and picture discs out too.

They never bought tunes for ages, and were never found. But, someone else tried the same thing and eventually got booted out for it.

(3) I know of someone that used to work for a budget retailer, that has since gone down the pan (clue: they used a Status Quo tune with altered words as a TV advert).

This place was notorious for losing stock hand over fist, even down to management level. Said person tells me that the thievery in their shop actually started off as a dare, that became bigger and bigger, and security and searches were very much lacking.

Anything was fare game that could be worn, or easily concealed in a bag. They even did the trick of wearing lots of clothing and wearing an item concealed so that they avoided detection. Word has it that in this particular store alone there was a loss of £70,000 a year. But, their attitude was “Screw them, we get exploited with crappy wages so let’s screw them back”, an attitude similar to that of other posters that have quoted stories here.
(Panteneman Isn't entirely sure why he bothered on, Wed 16 Jan 2008, 13:29, Reply)

shoplifting game to play
Last weekend a mate was telling me about a game his friend in South Ifrica used to play. He'd take a security tag with nothing attached, and walk out of a supermarkey. When the alarm went off he'd run off as fast as he could to see if he could get away from the fat security guards. If they caught him, he'd hand them the tag and saunter off. Mostly he left them in a sweating steaming heap. One one occasion, however, as he was going up a down escalator, a security bloke came down and knocked him down the escalator. I guess he didn't play that game so much after that.
(teasus likes tea, Wed 16 Jan 2008, 11:56, 5 replies)

blackjacks!!
When I was about seven, I stole a single blackjack, worth all of half a p from the local newsagents. I felt so guilty I put it back a few days later, looking rather the worse for having been in my pocket!
(teasus likes tea, Wed 16 Jan 2008, 11:50, Reply)

Not technically shoplifting, but..
A mate of mine went to see Maximo Park, caught up with them backstage and asked them to sign a copied version of their latest album. Twat.
(__, Wed 16 Jan 2008, 11:03, 1 reply)

Working in Asda
We used to hear the glorious announcement over the tannoy 'Service Call 100 to the foyer', which meant some theivin gypo was in the store and it was about to kick off. When this was heard, ten or so blokes would remove their ties and jackets and half-run down to reception, normally to find someone having a dust up with the security guards. Then ten of us would pile on him and do our best to hold the fucker down. This happened one hot day in the middle of summer and some bloke had tried to nick a bottle of whisky. Anyway, he ran at one of us as he tried to flee the store and six of us piled on him. He was seriously strong, but we managed to get him into the security room, which was about 5 feet square and hold him there till the filth turned up. So i was kneeling on the guys back, and the six of us were in a small room with no ventilation and it was fucking boiling in there. After a while, someone said whos farted? Then the stench hit my nose. The tea-leaf had shat his pants, and i was kneeling not 6 inches from his trousers. We had to stay like that for half a fucking hour with that stench before the filth turned up.
( DumbMonkey The penis mightier than the sword, Wed 16 Jan 2008, 10:44, 1 reply)

Well...
When i worked at a Cinema in Newcaslte, I kept myself and my (sort-of) flatmates in toilet-roll,washing up liquid,blue roll,surface cleaner

When i worked at a well-known piss-poor rip-off PC-merchants, I helped myself to (otherwise discarded) memory cards, USB memory sticks, software, and print cartridges

I AM ALL OF T3H PIKEY!
(likeajackhammer, Wed 16 Jan 2008, 10:26, Reply)

OMFG - Just recalled I'm a jewelry thief!
Roll back to me age eight in teh seventies. My mother was running a local church jumble sale, and was setting up the tat. Somehow, I got that magpie feeling when I spied the glint of some shiny earrings attached to a card. Fantastic! They would do just grand.

So I pocketed them. I was to give them to the babysitter next time she looked after me. She was the love of my life, age 18 and legs up to her arse.. a prettier girl you could not meet. I would present her with the jewels, she would fall in love with me, and she would forever give me that feeling that made little-madone pop out of the front of my pyjamas whilst watching Play For Today (sometimes anyway).

As it turned out, I didn't have the balls to proclaim my love for this girl, so I stuffed the jewels down a grid before the Sweeney came and nicked me.

In retrospect, she was a real woofer and way too freckly!
( Piper Alpha is being a grumpy northerm bastard on:, Wed 16 Jan 2008, 10:22, 2 replies)

Late enough?
Is it late enough in the week to mention a story slightly off topic? I've been holding it in for days...

When living in Kilburn a couple of years back I passed a Volvo on the way to work that had been put up on bricks and had the wheels nicked. A bad day for the car's owner, but I can see the appeal to some scrote in need of new alloys for his, erm, Volvo.

However, on the way back from work I was bowled over to see that during the day someone had come along and nicked the bricks that were holding up the car. Surely that's a new low. After all, we're only talking about 16 bricks or so. That's not even enough to build a decent outdoor BBQ.
( DickieDoesDallas eshews witty slogans, Wed 16 Jan 2008, 9:22, 3 replies)

does it count if you don't realise it?
i went to our local shop to buy an envelope to post a letter and i was so busy wondering if i had enough for a stamp i picked up the envelope and stuck my letter in, bought a stamp and posted it.
oh, the icy dread i felt when i realised i never payed for the envelope!!
i didn't go back for weeks....
( ivesb Highly specialised Clinical Physiologist crapbag, Wed 16 Jan 2008, 9:11, 1 reply)

you are joking
A bit over a year ago we had something stolen from the showroom at work. Not inside the showroom from the outside.

They stole our sodding security cameras!!!!

Some ratboy climbed up and "aquired" them in the middle of the night during a storm with lashing rain and gale force winds.

Rarther unsurprisingly the cctv didnt show much.

A bit off tangent but worthy of inclusion i feel.






legnth?? about 5 meters off the ground
(welgar, Wed 16 Jan 2008, 8:51, Reply)

1p
And another...

When I was a 9-10yr old kid I lived in the Isle of Man for a short period. Nothing exceptional there, but as my dad controlled where I lived, and he was pretty unstable, things could happen quickly.

One day I'd bought a pencil from the local shop but been a penny short. No problem, said the nice chap, pay me next you come in. Problem is, three days later I was told to pack my bags, I was going to live in Bolton with my dad and the woman he'd just married.

I never had the chance to return that penny. I even argued about it with my dad on the ferry for about three hours solid. He must have thought I was losing it.

And it bugged me for years. And years.

But did I learn? Oh no. Just before being forced to leave one of my first summer jobs, I'd been 7p short for a sandwich from the shop below. It still haunts me, twenty years later, that this old guy who ran it probably went to his grave with his trust in people mortally shattered.

Length? It's all about my having no sense of perspective.
(clopinettes, Wed 16 Jan 2008, 8:36, Reply)

I lifted a shoplifter! And then displayed shocking naivety.
It was strange, I walked around the corner in a local mini-market to see a guy looking around suspiciously, while completely failing to see me. He then quickly grabbed five or six boxes of chocolates and stuffed them in his bag.

Then he looks up at me. His face drops, I shake my head, and he starts putting chocolates back. Neatly.

I don't know what then happened. I think I was touched by his non-aggressive approach. He actually tried to explain what he was doing. He was skint, his brother was in trouble with drug dealers for a petty debt, and he needed to raise a tenner to get his brother out of the shit.

That's when I did something of such astonishing naivety I still kick myself. I said "here mate, don't worry - here's a tenner and you can pay me back when you're ready. Just give me your number and address and I'll get in touch."

Of course, the number was never ever answered and when I went to the address in a rough estate (I could see through the windows - fakkin hell don't chavs have big tellies!?) the guy who answered said he'd never heard of the bloke.
(clopinettes, Wed 16 Jan 2008, 8:23, 4 replies)

Baby Starter
Apparently, I was a shoplifter as a baby, as was my brother. Both of us had a tendency to pick things off the shelves in various shops and hide them down the sides of the carrier. Rather embarassing for parents, as they were honest enough to return the things we'd 'appropriated' though they could have easily kept them.

But, I've grown up. Now, when I'm being wheeled around the shops in a pram, I at least have the decency to pay for the goods I stuff under my blankets.
(calamarain just invented dehydrated water, Wed 16 Jan 2008, 3:52, Reply)

not me, my sis
left school on her last day with everyone else's money. yep, she robbed the school bank.
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Wed 16 Jan 2008, 2:11, Reply)

my confession
I'd just like to say, I've been reading the stories on QOTW since thursday and I've been basking in a glow of self-righteousness: I've never stolen anything. Then I mentioned it to some friends last night and all the old memories surged forward:

1: I was in the Brownies, Yay! I was a sixer(boss Brownie). Because of this I was allowed to carry the flag in church ahead of the vicar. This involved fitting a harness behind the scenes to my very weak 10 year old body to allow me to carry a flag weighing as much as Dawn French shagging Rik Waller. As my family are definitely not religious, and if pushed will claim a Jewish heritage, I was not in fear of divine retribution. When it came to taking off the harness, I was alone in the same room as the dishes they hand out to collect the money during sunday service. Me and the rest of the brownie troupe ate well all the time I was the flag holder - I can't believe the vicar never counted the contributions before he let me in the room.

2. First job. We had a return = refund policy. No receipt required. We'd go down the road to the shop doing a 2 for 1 offer on the same stock we had and refund both items for list price on our goods. The manager put me onto this so until last night it never occurred to me that this was untoward (I've not even thought about it for over 15 years). Naively I used the money for the jukebox in the pub we had after hours drinks in and bought drinks for our saturday staff. I shared the wealth.

3. Yesterday. Like many previous posts, I inadvertently walked out with an evening paper from the supermarket I'd just done a weekly shop at. I was reading it waiting for a taxi to take home myself and 120 quids worth of shopping. I was so excited that the taxi turned up on time I just walked straight out.

The conversation last night developed from that. I had some friends round for a drink that had to hold me back from going back to the store 3 hours after the theft and 2 hours 59 min after I realized I'd taken the paper just because I drank enough wine that I wanted to confess. The only thing stopping me was that I was well over the limit myself (I'm still on my provisional license - I'm 33 - so need a licensed driver and my L plates) and none of my friends would drive me.

Silly twat I am.
( no longer a user, Tue 15 Jan 2008, 23:49, 4 replies)

You Are Being Watched
A good friend of mine after a night out, living up to the student stereotype, decides to steal a road sign...

and ends up on BBC1

www.youtube.com/watch?v=p04jN1DS88Q
(osmouk, Tue 15 Jan 2008, 21:50, 5 replies)

Stealing is great!
My utter lack of morals concerning thievery from shops has been a boon and a bane in equal measure.

On a twilight sojourn betwixt ale house and dwelling, myself and some friends entered a paper shop. I pocketed some 3 packs of Tunes (for I knew not what I was doing). Upon capture, I was all indignant outrage - "well if they were on the fucking NHS, I wouldn't have to resort to this! I've got mouths to feed"...which turned to faux support - "listen I'm on your side, I actually heard somewhere you make a loss on Tunes, so...", which turned to sorrow - "to be honest mate, I'm tired and broken inside, here's 68p".

When I worked in J Sainsburys fantastic in-store bakery, I was a pilfering machine. Bags of donuts would be loaded for friends, the result being a quivering load of sweety goodness, danishes dribbling out the seams, all for the low low price of 5p (if holding a real gun is anywhere near the unadulterated cock throb of caressing a sleek black reduction gun, well, it goes a little way to explaining 'merkins certain fondness of high school shootings. the little rascals).

So I satisfied myself with all the sugary treats the bakery offered, post spliff shifts were a veritable Homer Simpson dream of frosted treats and caramel fillings. But I wanted more. Specifically, I wanted alcohol. But you know that inner voice that tells you when your ideas are good or, well, a bit shit? Conscience I believe the kids are calling it nowadays. Alcohol just seemed like...a big thing you know? All aspects of it - prospective repercussions if caught, the actual practicalities of it, just mainly the fact it was such a step up from what I'd stolen before - I was 15 at the time (not that I'm trying to insinuate my criminal career has spiralled ridiculously in direct correlation to my age - altho my life would certainly be interesting come 35/40 - just trying to get across my youthful dilemma!).

I had already spied my first target - a big load of Smirnoff's finest sat all virginal and effervescent at the back door. But still the inner conflict raged, engorged by the new crack security team just hired, and the state of the art cameras the team leaders used for looking at ladies in a demeaning way. So these thoughts I wrestled as I head down to the back for some job related reason. But hello! What's this!? The security guard is sloping up the corridor. He looks mighty furtive. And hang about! He's tucking something into his coat and ACTUALLY doing the double-take, shifty sideways glance as he does so. I enter the back area (easy now), and yes, my suspicions are confirmed - that once proud and erect vodka box is in tatters, a bottle shaped hole in the top, and a distinct lack of one of the advertised 6 bottles inside. The security guard!

Well life changed. What innocence I had left - TORN FROM ME AND SPAT UPON BY "THE MAN". But in a good way. Everything became free game, I was gonna be a renegade shoplifter, living off his wits and stolen twix. I jam a bottle of Smirnoff down my pants, and waddle back to the bakery. The deed was done that night, no hiccups (possibly some knowing glances from the security guard, but that might be imagined brain thoughts). From there on in it was carnage - on-offer beer (nearer the doors) swiped straight off the shop floor, a quick sprint to the front, and hope your friend has timed the getaway car - you hop into the still moving auto, legs hanging out, heart beating, face plastered with that certain sorta grin you only gain by stealing alcohol. For those 5 minutes after every shift, I was alive. Thanks Mr security guard man, my life was richer for what you gave.
(bacontrout got ska, Tue 15 Jan 2008, 21:49, Reply)

My Life of Crime
Age 6: Stealing from a baby (and family)

Round my granny's flat not long after my baby cousin had been. He'd forgotten his new Matchbox cars.

These weren't any Matchbox cars. They were Warner Bros Matchbox cars. Bugs Bunny driving one, Daffy Duck another, etc. Seconds after playing with them, I knew I had to have them.

When it came time to leave, up the sleeves of the jumper they went. Mission accomplished. Until I got in the back seat of the car and immediately starting playing with them, attracting the attention and ire of my parents. I had to bring them back and apologise.

Lesson learned: keep stash safe until the heat is off.

Age 8 - 15: Stealing from God.

I was a choirboy. We were given special numbered envelopes, as were regular parishioners, to put our contributions to the collection in.

Every Sunday, my parents would put in 50p, rising to £1 with inflation, for the cathedral. Every Sunday, I would rip the envelope open and spend it on sweets to suck on during the sermon.

Ocassionally, an old tenor in charge of this sort of thing would mention my family's staggering contempt for the welfare of St Finbarre's, and I would contribute to the collection for a couple of weeks.

Lesson learned: vary your MO.

Age 12: Stealing from Big Business

I had 30p to get the bus home from school. A Snickers bar was 27p. Shoplifted one from the same big newsagent every day for who knows how long before getting collared and dragged into a back room and interrogated.

I think I lied about my parents' phone number and address, may even have started crying, was released scot free but 'banned' from the shop.

Lesson learned: Never admit to anything.

That was the end of my crime career, apart from the usual student shite (see 75% of posts on this board).

In the last 10 years or so I have been robbed in Slovakia (losing Inter-rail ticket and passport, having to beg my way back to London), had my bike nicked, had my flat broken into and been carjacked in Cuba (losing passport again).

Karma's a fucker.
(calcio1, Tue 15 Jan 2008, 21:02, 1 reply)