I've never shoplifted but........
Reading these stories, and how most people get away with it, I feel compelled to try.
(oneinthepink is at your cervix m'lady, Thu 10 Jan 2008, 13:50, Reply)

I think...
...I may once have 'shoplifted the pooty'...

...but I may be mistaken.
(Che Grimsdale Best before:, Thu 10 Jan 2008, 13:46, Reply)

Can anyone beat this for age?
When I was about one and a half years old my mum took me with her when she went food shopping. As pushing an arsey toddler around in a buggy at the same time as marshalling your shopping isn't the easiest thing, she stored a few things (notably a whole chicken) in the tray underneath my seat. After paying for her purchases and getting out to the car, she discovered the chicken still sitting there unpurchased.

So I was an accomplice to some shoplifting before I was two. Excellent.
( kingofpork is the king of pork, Thu 10 Jan 2008, 13:45, Reply)

Kleptomania Competition
Whilst at school a group of us ended up using the local news agent to test our increasingly daring thievery. It had all started with kids stealing a couple of "needed items", like sweets that they couldn't afford, and pooling the loot to share it out. This moved on to getting pr0n, slipping it inside a regular newspaper, before purchasing only the paper. Soon though we were stealing for the sake of it, really testing our "skills". I remember stuffing chewing gum up sleeves whilst casually chatting the shop keeper before whilst walking out picking up the largest Toblerone you can get and simply walking with it held out in front of me. As I said, we were increasingly taking pointless risks, not because we really needed any of what we stole, but simply to brag about what we could get. We had no Fagan, to pimp us out of our goods, and we were careful not to brag about what we did outside of our group (though, we were seemingly recruiting so we can’t have been that tactile).

It all came to an abrupt halt however when one morning, one of the newer members got grabbed whilst pocketing a small stapler of all things. He scrabbled away from the clutches of the shop keeper and raced away up to school – however he left a rather obvious clue… his school blazer with obligatory name tag sewn in. Said shop keeper told school who of course call in young Siegfried (I shit you not), who then blabbed his little heart out. On the plus side, there were about ten or fifteen of us by that point, so punishment was not as severe as it could well have been. In fact a ticking off by the local bobby and a couple of hours helping out the shop keeper with some chores (it was a quaint village rather than as it sounds being in the 1950s) was about it.

On the whole this ended my life of crime, however, some of those skills still come in handy. It still amazes me how often you can get through security at a festival etc by carrying a small rack sack over your head. Or by laying on a little charm and being blatant whilst doing something you're not meant to.
( @><|= w0nu!) or cunt to my friends, Thu 10 Jan 2008, 13:43, 2 replies)

The world's worst shoplifter
I spent about six months of my youth working at a small branch of Jon Menzies. A little way up the road from the shop was a home for the...ah...reality challenged. Every Wednesday was open-door day, where the 'guests' of said establishment were allowed a few hours to wander, unaccompanied, around the town. This made for some amusing encounters now and again, but one in particular relates to this QOTW.

This old chap would come into the shop, regular as clockwork, every Wednesday afternoon just after lunch. Regardless of the weather he'd be wearing a full-length mac, done up to the neck. He'd look around shiftily, then head for the books section. Once there, he'd begin artlessly shoving whatever books he could grab quickest into his pockets -- pockets which had had the lining removed, so that the books fell into the lining of the coat itself (somewhat reminiscent of my own cunning ruse, mentioned earlier).

The dumbest part of this whole routine -- dumber even than the fact that within seconds of entering the shop he would always have been spotted and would be followed closely by at least one staff member until he left -- was that he didn't know when to stop. So he'd carry on stuffing his pockets until the coat was literally bulging with swag and he could barely navigate the aisles to make his escape. We'd let him get on with it because watching this straggly little man waddle unsteadily about the place as the overburdened coat knocked into shelving, standees and random bystanders was simply hilarious and brightened up an otherwise dull weekday afternoon no end.

Of course he'd always be accosted before he was able to leave the place with any merchandise, and asked politely to return it. He'd kick up a stink (he had an impressively foul mouth for an old fella) but the suggestion that the police be called was always enough to calm him down. Then he'd go on his way. Until next week, of course...
( reallywittyname veraciously conspues lexiphanicism on, Thu 10 Jan 2008, 13:41, Reply)

accidental shop lift
During those crazzzzy 90's my brother and his mate used to pop in the highly secure local Woolies (no cameras or security guard)they would steel cover discs off Amiga magazines, this then led to just knicking the whole mag, then it turned in to a compition as to who could nick the largest thing, this being a large board game and folding chair.

Any way during their kleptomania I would go off and read the Judge Dredd graphic novels, I would wander around reading it, then when finished I would put the now soiled by my grubby hands book back on the shelf.

During one of these reading sessions I wandered out side to talk to a passing mate, after finishing our convasation I looked down and realised I still had the book in my thieving mitts so I just fucked off and still have it to this very day.

Length... you'll never know because you can't catch me copper and fuck off I can't spell!
(3:16, Thu 10 Jan 2008, 13:40, 3 replies)

More buslifting than shoplifting.
My university campus (Bretton Hall, if anyone knows it), had a long driveway running down onto the site. The local bus service used to stop on campus, making their way up and down this driveway. It was decided, for whatever reason, to put speed bumps in.

The bus drivers didn't seem to want to slow down for them. Many times we would hear the squeal-THUD of the back end of a bus slamming down onto one of the speed bumps, followed by rivers of oil and the inevitable death of the engine.

One day, a bus hit one of the bumps with such force that the big metal panel that covers the engine right at the back fell off. It had barely touched the ground before a group of students from a nearby block (Litherop) nabbed it. I couldn't say what eventually happened to it, but for a long, long time it sat proudly on view in the window at the top of their stairwell. Maybe Arriva didn't want it back.
(Musuko, Thu 10 Jan 2008, 13:38, 3 replies)

Porn.
Newsagents used to and may still ;-) get papers delivered to them dead early in the morning. Bundled in with these newspapers you could often find artistic booklets.
I used to make special trips with a mate to do this and we frequently came home before breakfast laden with porn.
If you timed it right you could drink a stolen pint of milk or orange juice on the way.
(beebolbod for those that are hard of hearing - LISTEN, Thu 10 Jan 2008, 13:38, Reply)

Oh, for a life of (petty) crime...
Well personally, my history as a criminal mastermind extends as far as a few toilet rolls from the University toilets, the odd stolen drink/cigarette from a club and one packet of Scampi Fries that I still feel quite bad about, but I've met a few people that have made shoplifting into an art form.

For some unfathomable reason, our craphole High School decided that to mark the Millennium they'd take a group of 40 or so Salford kids to the pristine, trusting nation of Canada. Bad plan. We hadn't left Manchester Airport's departure lounge before two enterprising young fellows had appropriated a couple of cartons of duty free cigarettes. The nine hour flight sped by as my light-fingered friends emptied the duty-free trolley, and then Canada stretched out in front of us like a kleptomaniac's wet dream. In little over a week, five lads in particular stole over £1,000 worth of souvenir keychains, hockey paraphernalia, electrical goods and, in one memorable escapade, a full-sized faux moose head. How they managed it, I'll never know.

But even this valiant attempt pales in comparison to what I witnessed in a minibus at a service station. As I sat there, waiting to get back on the road, three pikeys who were travelling to London with us appeared holding plates. Three full English breakfasts were placed on an upturned lager box, followed by three knives, three forks, three cups, three saucers, three teaspoons, a pot of tea, a handful of milk cartons, a box of napkins and six rounds of toast. How anyone has the sheer brass bollocks to walk into a Road Chef, order three breakfasts with extras, pocket it all and carry it to a waiting getaway vehicle without being caught or spilling any is absolutely beyond me, but hats off to them.
(Psycorp603, Thu 10 Jan 2008, 13:36, Reply)

The Great Cane Robbery
I have a feeling this is going to be a quiet week for me.

However, a few years back, my mate Simon was in B&Q, to buy some bamboo canes. After picking up a bundle, he trotted off to the checkout to pay for them, but there was no one there to take his hard earned money. Figuring that someone would be along momentarily, he stood and waited, with the appropriate coinage grasped firmly in his hand.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

After 5 minutes, there was still no sign of a till monkey and he started to get a bit hacked off. When still there was no sign of anyone desperate to make him part with his cash, he thought ‘Sod this, I’ve got a bus to catch’, and strolled out of the warehouse, across the car park and down the street, still clutching the canes.

Two days later he spotted a familiar figure on Crimestoppers, with the words ‘Do you know who this man is? He was caught on camera walking out of B&Q after stealing some bamboo canes’ ringing in his ears.

He’s now teaching English as a foreign language in Thailand, having fled the country like a poor man’s Ronnie Biggs.

*EDIT* I’m being roped into attending a seminar in the big smoke in the next few weeks. Any London-based B3tans fancy a pint?

**Second edit** Given the Ronnie Biggs reference, I now realise that the title of this story should have been 'The Great Cane Robbery'. That'll teach me to think things through first...

***Third edit*** Bugger it, I'll change the fecker anyway...
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Thu 10 Jan 2008, 13:35, 3 replies)

In the final years of the last millenium
I went to university in Wales. At the time the Five Nations (as it was then) was sponsored by Guinness. The Student Union building had a *huge* banner on the side of the wall advertising it. One evening, at chucking out time, a friend decided he wanted the banner. He got a boost and managed to haul himself up the banner until he got to the top. When he got there he started trying to wrestle it off the wall.

A crowd started to gather of people watching his progress in the kind of detached curiosity you see at car accidents and the like. Including a bouncer.

Bouncer: "Excuse me mate, are you trying to steal that?"

Friend (looking down): "Er, no, I was just trying to climb up it."

B: "..."

F: "..."

B: "Get down."

He got down.
( Kroney, Thu 10 Jan 2008, 13:33, Reply)

Close but not quite
The only time I have even come close to shoplifting was when I was about five and went with my Mum to the local supermarket. Except this was so long ago that it wasn't called a supermarket.

Like a previous poster I also had an obsession with buttons and was desperately envious of the cashiers who got to press buttons on the till. This being prehistory, tills, or cash registers as we called them at the time, were mechanical. Nothing went beep. Instead we had click-click-click-WHIRR as the numbers were typed in and then added on to the paper bill.

One day, my Mum was cashing up at the till when I wandered over to the other unmanned till and decided that now was my chance to press buttons.

click-WHIRR and the cash tray popped open. A major panic by the shop staff followed. I was nearly in tears and my Mum was telling me off. However, they told her that it shouldn't have been turned on so it wasn't my fault at all.

Since then I have been a saint.
(BearWithLittleBrain, Thu 10 Jan 2008, 13:32, Reply)

seven inches of black glossy plastic
A 45rpm single of 'Paranoid' by Black Sabbath from the Music & Video Exchange in Fulham.

Sorry God/Mum/shareholders.
( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Thu 10 Jan 2008, 13:30, 1 reply)

New Bike
I got a half decent BMX for christmas one year and although disappointed it wasn't the one i was after i realised it had a decent enough frame so i set about trips to Halfords to see how i could pimp it up a bit.

Each Saturday me and a mate would go in there, paw over the brake levers, cables, handlebars, pads etc etc and each week we'd rob a new piece.

The largest single item was a saddle and post and the next and only items left to replace on the bike were the wheels - everything else was as good as it could have been, at Halfords expense.

Pinching a wheel wasn't wise, so i changed the price on a Skyway II mag wheel and paid less than half for it (this is before computers and barcodes of course).

The only thing left to rob was the matching front wheel but before i could go back in there, some cunt nicked the bike.

Imagine that.

Thankfully i was too young to appreciate karma and all that so i learned nothing.
(beebolbod for those that are hard of hearing - LISTEN, Thu 10 Jan 2008, 13:26, Reply)

How to get a spare room, for free
After me and the missus finally got our act together and started buying our own home, we decided that spending thousands of pounds on it wasn't enough. We'd also need to spend thousands of pounds filling the inside with new furtinure.

Hiring a van and travelling to the nearest furniture shop we start filling up two trollys with new furniture.

After a 4 hour shop we get to the tills with enough woodwork to keep an army of termites fed forever. Cue dippy shopgirl scanning our shopping.

Now me and Mrs Wooden Meal had done the decent thing and left all barcodes showing on every product, no matter how deeply buried the item. The girl scans everything down the leftside of each trolly, then everything over down the right. The final price is established and I pay and hurry to the van.

Maybe if she'd also taken the time to scan everything in the middle of each trolley we wouldn't have made it home with several bookcases, picture frames, table, chair and a desk.

The two of us felt thouroughly guilty as we spotted her mistake almost immediately but kept quiet hoping we'd get away with it. Though after 3 days of building the stuff and the amount of additional screws, nails, glue and powertools we had to buy , that feeling had passed.
(Wooden meal is. Or is he?, Thu 10 Jan 2008, 13:15, Reply)

I have never deliberately shoplifted anything, ever.
I'm appalled that anyone would do that.

I once took two postcards from an unmanned shop and forgot to put money in the honesty box. That was 9 years ago and I still feel bad about it.
Last week I bought a new memory card for my PSP and paid in cash. The shopkeep accidentally gave me 2p change instead of 1p. I noticed after I'd left the shop and decided it probably wasn't worth it to go back and give them a penny. I still felt sort of bad about it because that goes against my principles.

Last year I shared a flat with nasty people who stole things like cruet sets and even a gravy boat from cafes and boasted about it. If I'd known where they got them from I'd've returned them myself. I've met people who steal glasses from restaurants/pubs etc. Just why?
( Bob Todd whee, Thu 10 Jan 2008, 13:13, 1 reply)

B&Q
Worked there for a few summers and weekends and saw a huge amount of shoplifting. Most people would take something off the shelves, discards the packaging in a remote corner of the shop and walk out with them. But the ones that stick in my mind are:

- The woman who tried to steal a Black and Decker by hiding it in her vagina (the tag was still on it and she had to be strip searched)
- The customer who walked through the checkout with a £200 lawnmower, telling the moron checkout girl that he'd bought it at Sainsburys and didn't want to leave it in his car.
- The guy who threw the security guard down the stairs and had to be restrained by four people. He had stolen a packet of screws costing about 14p.
- The staff, who took pretty much whatever they liked.
- The gangs of pikey kids who come in and nick anything just for something to do.

A security guard told me that most people begin to whistle self-consciously when they're about to nick something.
(frankspencer, Thu 10 Jan 2008, 13:11, 3 replies)

Shopdumping
I want to take this opportunity to introduce you to shopdumping, an act which may be criminal which is approximately the opposite of shoplifting.

I suffer from an unnamed bowel syndrome, which sometimes results in a colon full of bloody diarrhoea (real blood, no profanity intended) with mere seconds to find a toilet bowl. As a result, I've become quite skilled at finding public toilets to use.

Shopdumping (v): the act of going into a restaurant, store, or other business with no intention of purchasing anything, just using the toilet and leaving quickly.
(racetraitor has an alibi for, Thu 10 Jan 2008, 13:11, 3 replies)

Only the one time
When i was a smaller penguin we lived near some allotments, being bored one afternoon we started nicking beans out of the nearest patch. We did this a couple of times, run to the beans, nick one then run back and so on. That is until the owner of said allotment patch (who lived opposite, d'oh) came running out of his house shouting as us. We all scarpered and hid before eventually skulking off home.
Once home the guilt set in and i was disgusted with myself. I was in tears and had to wait for my mom to get back from bingo so i could confess. Which i did, tho i think she just laughed and told me not to do it again.
Have never stolen anything ever again thanks to remebered guilt of a 7 year old stealing beans
(The Ginger Penguin la la la la la la, Thu 10 Jan 2008, 13:07, 1 reply)

Been Waiting For This One
I stole a park bench from Manchester University.

It was a Becks Promotion night. Becks had just arrived in the UK and they were selling it in the Student Union for 30p a pint. I got muntered on 3 quid.

So, on leaving the union with my mate we took a short-cut through the University grounds. And we spied a bench.

"That would be perfect on our balcony mate" I slurred to Jon - and he agreed.

So he picked up one end and I got the other. Fuck me it was heavy. It was a well built, rock solid piece of craftsmanship and about 8 foot long.

So off we went, past the library, through the car park to the back gates. Which were locked. Bugger. So I leant the bench against the iron spikey fence and climbed up it. Wedging myself against the railings, I pulled and Jon pushed and, eventually, we had the bench balancing precariously on the top of the fence. Then Jon climbed over and I dropped the bench on him.

Ooops!

After moaning and groaning for a bit, Jon got up and we continued our journey. Only now we were out in the open and had to be careful. So we crossed the road and entered the park. Now for some reason we were now doing an exaggerated cartoon style of sneaking. You know the one - the one where you lift your feet up too high as you sneak for cover to cover. Would have worked too if we weren't giggling like paedophiles at playtime.

After a while this got too much for us so we put the bench down, sat on it, and rolled up a fat one.

Good move Legless. Now you're pissed *and* stoned and you're trying to carry a monsterous bench.



And so we continued on our way.

Eventually we left the park and had one more road to cross before we were safe in the bowels of Hulme. A place where no copper dared tread. So we made another cartoon scurry across the road and made it to the other side when we saw the headlights of a car approaching.

"Quick" said Jon " Sit on the bench and act nonchalant"

So we did and the car passed without stopping. Safe.

Then I heard a crunch-crunch of feet on frosty grass behind me. I looked back and, oh bollocks. It was a copper. On his own, on foot, in the middle of bloody Hulme. This was one for the books.

Now I was too drunk, stoned and tired to run. He would have grabbed us in a heartbeat.

"What you got there" says the copper

"Err - shine your torch on it" I said. "Ah it's a bench"

"And where did you get it from" says the copper

"I've just pinched it" I said "From the university"

"It's a prank" chimes in Jon helpfully.

Copper looked at the bench again. Looked at me and Jon giggling helplessly, shook his head and walked away.

"I don't fucking believe this" he muttered.

Neither did we.

Cheers
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Thu 10 Jan 2008, 13:07, 24 replies)

From the worst place possible
I was a good kid until university so I was a late bloomer. First time I ever shoplifted, my friends took me to a shady military surplus store (the kind with Nazi paraphernalia here and there[including apparently a swastika flag hanging from the ceiling at one point]). Lots of military surplus clothes, lots of useless antiques, books, and a LARGE selection of firearms.

I found the patches section, which was filled with tasteless and racist patches. I settled on a "Viet Cong Hunting Club" patch, and one club with Bart Simpson in fatigues. It said "Tailhook '91 - I didn't do it, nobody saw me do it, you can't prove a thing." All I know about the reference is that it was some sort of navy conference in Vegas where there was an unusually large number of sexual harassment complaints (83 women and 7 men according to Wikipedia).

Anyway, I slipped into the washroom, stuck these two patches deep in my pocket, and got the hell out of there before one of the gun nuts who worked there noticed.

Here are pictures of both patches.
upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/3/35/TailhookPatch2.jpg
www.diggerhistory.info/images/cloth/hunt-club.jpg
(racetraitor has an alibi for, Thu 10 Jan 2008, 13:06, 2 replies)

fight the power
A friend of mine regularly steals newspapers, chocolate and other such things from newsagents. He says he's doing this to "show the Man" or "beat the capitalist system" - but I notice that he only steals things that he wants or needs. Surely it would get back at the Man more effectively if he just stole the most expensive items he could and then threw them away. Or maybe he's just a thief talking bollocks.
(frankspencer, Thu 10 Jan 2008, 13:04, Reply)

M5 Services at Bridgewater
Summer 2004, and we're off for a week in a lovely cottage in Cornwall, just outside Mevagissey. (And it was great.)

Halfway down there, we stop at the M5 services at Bridgewater, southbound. We get a sandwich for me, same again for Mrs FPKK which she'll share with young Thomas, and a trio of drinks. That's all.

The two sandwiches go through, and the till's reading a tenner already. Two drinks take it to about fifteen quid, so I simply put the third drink on the 'paid' tray, and the counter slave doesn't notice. If you think I'm paying for three drinks after such extortionate prices, think again.

The revenge was short lived; by the time we'd got past Plymouth, the sandwich Thom & his mum shared was making him throw up. Nice one, you unhygenic bastards. Thomas spent the next year convinced he had travel sickness because of that you wankers.

I hope & pray for Bridgewater services to have a massive gas explosion or something, to wipe it off the face of the earth. Grr.
( Fathter Puddytat Kill Kill dat widdle boid is mine on, Thu 10 Jan 2008, 13:01, 6 replies)

Shoplifting by proxy
If there are any kids within earshot when we are passing the Pick and Mix in Tesco's or Woolies. I'm often heard telling the wife:

"Did you know if you eat the sweets before you leave the store they're free", at which the kid's faces light up as they reach for their "free" sweets.

The looks I get off parents who overhear are priceless.
(Yellow Car is now red, Thu 10 Jan 2008, 13:01, 1 reply)

Technical theft (I think)
Mrs splurgle and I have gotten the urge to go green and grow our own veggies on an allotment. We went online and ordered a £600 greenhouse from a major UK supermarket (not sainsburys but the other big one), the item promptly arrived, not from the supermarket itself but direct from the manufacturer. It stayed in our garage for a couple of weeks before I summoned up courage to have a go at building it in our garden. Unfortunately, the space I had cleared to erect the greenhouse wasn't quite big enough so we had to call the supermarket people to get a refund. Amazingly they took no heed of my admitted stupidity (buying something too big for the hole it was meant to fit) and gave me a full refund and told me someone would be around to pick up the offending article. This was 3 months ago and I have seen the £600 go back into my account yet the greenhouse remains uncollected. Even more amazingly, we ordered a smaller greenhouse from a different website, and when it arrived it turned out to be the same people who had supplied the last one! I suspect we will hang on to the first one until the heat dies down and then sell it on ebay for a tidy profit


mwuhaha....
(urgle-splurgle molesting small goats since, Thu 10 Jan 2008, 12:59, 2 replies)

JonnyDynamite reminded me
About another story from when I was a student in halls. Some of my neighbours attempted to turn our corridor into a park. To this end they procured a cast iron park bench and a large litter bin and brought them up to the corridor. They even went and got a bag of fallen leaves which they scattered around for the sake of authenticity.

Actually, the most impressive part of this was getting the bench past the night janitor and up five storeys, as it was too big to fit in the lift.
( K2k6 has a proper job these days, Thu 10 Jan 2008, 12:52, 1 reply)

The medium of yesteryear
Remember when record shops' cassette displays were only empty boxes which you'd take to the counter and the assistant would retrieve the actual cassette from a big drawer at the back. Well Boots in Princes Street obvioulsy didn't want to invest in a drawer system and kept the cassettes in the display boxes. That's where I got

Iggy Pop - Lust For Life
Elton John - Capt Fantastic
Brownsville Station - Brownsville Station
Pink Floyd - Animal
Led Zeppelin - III
and many, many more.

Often chosen at random or merely because the cover took my fancy. Loads of classic albums that shaped my musical tastes and by extention my whole life, to this day.

Thanks Boots.
( Ramsay Tupper, Thu 10 Jan 2008, 12:52, Reply)

I have never stolen from a shop.
Take heed.
( Gerbilinafishtank Gerbil in a fish tank...TURTLE POWER!, Thu 10 Jan 2008, 12:52, 2 replies)

Penny sweets
Everyone's got a penny sweet story, so here's mine.
When I was about 10, my dad used to take me and sister, then about 8, to cricket with him. One weekday night we were allowed to run the tuck shop on our own-no biggie, we'd been doing it with Dad for years. Trouble started when my sister dared me to nick a Gummy Bear penny sweet from the box. I did so, then dared her to nick 2. She did it, and we giggle away to ourselves. I then get greedy and take a whole handful and shove them in my coat pocket.

At this point a couple of the older boys, who are maybe 16, walk in. They saw me pocket these sweets and try to coerce me into showing them, but I refuse point blank. My sister disappears pretty sharpish and I start panicking and start thinking about hiding the evidence. Aha! The ladies loos were just next door. I went in, shoved all these sweets down and flush.

They're still there.

They're still there 2 flushes later. I come out of the toilets and these 2 boys go and look and see all these sweets down there. I deny any knowledge and turned on the waterworks. My dad came to find me and found me in the corner of the tuck shop room crying

"Daddy, those boys just followed me into the toilets"

Noone ever did find out what I'd done, but the boys got into trouble for being mean to and scaring a poor sweet innocent girl, and for going into the ladies loos. That story actually sounded more interesting in my head, but it is a completely brand new story-I've never confessed to my crimes.
(The Who Bird is eating Jaffa Cakes on, Thu 10 Jan 2008, 12:51, Reply)