Petty Thefts

During the spring of my 13th year, it was all the rage to walk to Mac’s at lunch and steal chocolate bars. In eighth grade, the phrase “five finger discount” was the epitome of trendy and cool.

However, I was never trendy or cool. (I know this fact may come as a shock to some, but it’s true. Feel free to take a minute to let this information soak in, and rest assured, because at least I'm surpassing my cool quotient at this period in my life.) And in turn, I never stole anything.

Ever.

That is, until yesterday.

Canice and I walked out of Value Village* and I triumphantly pulled a Harlequin Romance novel out of my bag and handed it to her, which she placed in her bag with her stolen doilies.**

I was giddy with the thrill of the crime, until I realized that theft has become such an abstract act that I probably do it on a regular basis. So, it was time to write a list.

Things I Stole This Week:

1) 20 minutes of time at work (I showed up 10 minutes late to work and left 10 minutes early, but did not adjust my time sheets accordingly. I’m underpaid as it is.)

2) Margarine from Katrina, Sasha & Court’s fridge (It’s okay though, because I left something in return: crumbs from my toast in the margarine. Seems to be a fair trade to me.)

3) Free long distance from the university (I called this guy in California for an interview.)

4) Mark’s Spin magazine (although I intend to give it back to him soon, because it’s a shoddy piece of writing as it is, but I still feel inclined to read it for some reason.)

5) TTC fare (Canice and I both shoved through the turnstile at once on her Metropass)

6) $72.64 from my Dad’s credit card (but only because my own credit card expired and my Dad lost not one, but both of my new credit cards) to pay for a computer part

7) $37.50 charged to Dad’s credit card for a therapeutic massage

8) Two one-cent stamps from a card Katrina’s grandma mailed to her (Canada Post failed to stamp the stamps).

9) A surplus of illegal downloads

10) And something really abstract (electronic, in fact) that I actually feel really guilty about stealing, and I’m worried that someone will find out.

So, on top of being exceedingly trendy and cool, I'm also a badass now.

It's just too bad I'm not 13 anymore.

*I don’t feel guilty stealing from Value Village, because for the every time I moved, over the last 4 years, I donated my old clothes to them, under the assumption they were a non-profit organization. After discovering that, in fact, they have been selling all my old stuff for profit, I’ve come to the conclusion that they owe me. So really, stealing the novel was more like a trade for all the stuff that I’ve given to them over the years.

**We weren’t indiscriminately stealing doilies and Harlequins, just to clarify. It was for a website Canice is working on for our online journalism class.