the only time i ever got caught

After writing my last post about my bad habit special talent a friend asked me if I've ever gotten caught.

Yeah, just once.
And it wasn't even for anything that good.

I think I was about 18 at the time, I had been round one friends and gotten very very stoned and was then on my way to visit another friend which involved walking through the town centre.
Whilst being under attack from the raving munchies.

I decided to go into Woolworths and get myself something to eat.

A great British Institution. Sadly no longer in business. And that has nothing to do with me.

One of the golden rules of shoplifting was NEVER steal from Woolies. This was before every shop had CCTV, security tags, and electronic alarms on the doors (yeah, I'm that old) but it was well known that they always had store detectives. We called them Stordys for short, STDs for even shorter, because if you got caught by one it meant you were fucked.
And if they caught you in Woolies they would always prosecute so not worth the risk.
However this being not long before christmas as I walked into the shop I, and my munchies, were confronted by a huge display of those extra large boxes of chocolates that you see at that time of year. I don't remember how much they were, but it was a lot more then the cheese roll and packet of crisps I had intended to get so I decided to help myself by tucking one inside my coat.
Idiot.

I walked out of the shop and as I got out the door felt a hand on my shoulder.

Then two stordys marched me back into the shop and out the back to the managers office.
Shitting myself.

.
Think quick Cowgirl.

I have another talent. I can make myself cry.
And being stoned I already had red-eye.
Drama was one of the few subjects at school that I was any good at, and I had long since perfected the art of bare faced lying. I needed to, by this point I had left home but when you are a rebellious teenager of a very straight laced Mother you learn to lie pretty damn quick.

So I'm sat in the shop managers office with the stordys and the manager comes in.
I make myself start crying. Loudly.
The other thing is I have never looked my age. Great when you're 40 and everyone thinks you're 30 but when you're 18 and you look 14 not so good.
Until that day.
"So what have you got to say young lady ?"
"I just *sniff* wanted to get a present *SNIFF* for my Mum. She's brought up me *sob* and my four brothers (I have one sister) all on her *sob* own since my Dad left us *SOB*, she spends all her money *howl* on us and works so *HOWL* hard and I just wanted to get her something because * HOOOOOWWL* I just love her so much. And now *CRYING REALLY HARD* she's going to be so ashamed of me...."
"What's your name and how old are you ?"
"*Fake name *, I'm 14"

I'm much better at it then her. And I didn't need to wear glasses then.

He told me to go and wait outside his office with one of the stordys. I was still crying but I was running out of steam by this point.
I thought the manager was probably calling the police and I was actually wondering how far I'd get if I did a runner. The shop was pretty packed but the office was out the back, so I spent the time working out what my new date of birth was going to be and which friend I could call if I needed bail, obviously it needed to be one who could pass for my Mum, as I was now 14, and obviously I didn't want to offend anyone by admitting they looked old enough to be her.
I was also pretty fucking pissed off with myself too. By this point I was shoplifting on a regular basis and here I was, stoned and about to get arrested for a box of fucking chocolates.
And I had a bag of weed in my pocket.
Fuck.

After maybe 10 minutes - that felt like an hour - he called me back in.

And informed me that given the circumstances he was letting me go !
Not because he felt sorry for me, but because my Mum clearly had enough to deal with, and although I had done a stupid thing he understood the reasons why. He lectured me ( still managing the odd sniff but trying not to smile ) for about 20 minutes about how lucky I was and all the stress I could've cause my poor long suffering mother then said he hoped that I had learnt my lesson.
Yeah I had.
I never nicked anything from Woolies ever again.


As I went to leave he called me back.
"I don't know where you're going to say you got them from, but give these to your Mum, I think she deserves them too"
And gave me the chocolates.

It was a bigger box then this. And I ate them all.
Guilty chocolate tastes so much better.

I should've been an actress.

guilty pleasures

I still remember the first time I ever stole something.

It was when I was in infant school, so I was probably about seven or eight. We had a box of scrap materials in the classroom and one of the other kids brought in some stuff to donate that included a piece of sparkly green glittery fabric. I remember Miss Green, the teacher, making a fuss about this fabric to the kid who brought it in and telling her that she should use it on the big fish mural the whole class was making at the time.

I really can recall the day that clearly.

I have always sewn, my Mum was a seamstress so I guess I got the talent from her and even at that age I used to copy pictures of clothes and make them for my dolls, Cindy being my favourite.

And Cindy needed a green glittery dress.

So when nobody was looking I took the fabric, scrunched it up, asked to go to the toilet but went to the cloakroom instead and put it in my coat pocket.

Cindy needed a top like this.

Later in the day it was time to do some art and it was discovered that the material was missing.

There was the usual routine of  'if whoever has taken it puts it back nothing will happen', and I can remember trying to hide my face as I was blushing . . . badly. But I didn't return the sparkly stuff. And I never did make anything from it either, it remained hidden in my room, because once I got it home I realised that if I had my Mum would've asked where it came from.

And at that age I couldn't lie to her.

As it happens all my teenage guilty secrets revolved around deceiving the parents too.

When I was about 13 my parents had a lot of those miniature bottles of spirits.

There were more then this. Way more.
But most of them were empty.

They were kept in a cupboard in the front room - so I was helping myself, and my friends, on a regular basis then putting the empty bottles back. The parents only ever drank if they had visitors which wasn’t that often, but there came a night when I was upstairs and I heard them offering drinks to friends of my Dad who had turned up. I heard Dad go into the room where these were kept - then call Mum - then what sounded like angry whispers.

I'm sat upstairs waiting for WW3 to break out and a year long grounding.

It never came, for days I was on walking eggshells but nothing was ever said.

Move on about 3 years - the parents have split.

One night Mum and I are having chat about things and she says "I'll tell you something you don't know about your Father, he was a secret drinker - he used to drink those miniatures we kept"

A few weeks later I'm round Dads, also having a chat and he says "did you know your mother was a secret drinker............."

I've never confessed.

The kleptomaniac in me still comes out to play from time to time. Nowadays if I want something I can usually afford it but sometimes I just can't resist. Way I see it if I'm spending £100 at the supermarket it doesn't hurt them to give me a jar of coffee as a bonus, although the biggest thing I've ever stolen was a shelf unit that is still in my living room now. I think it's just one little symptom of never quite growing up, although the roots of the habit come from childhood and always being told that I couldn't have stuff.

So I helped myself instead.

It was an easy progression from that scrap of fabric to a bar of chocolate on the way home from school, then as I got older make-up, records and clothes. I'd never steal from a person - do as you would be done by on that count - but if I can get a little five finger discount from a shop I fucking well will.

Never let your bad habits talents go to waste.

My other two guilty pleasures that stem from childhood are biscuit gluttony and the Starship Enterprise.

My Mum would buy biscuits but we were only ever allowed to have two or three at a time, nowadays I can quite happily eat a whole packet - especially if I have a coffee to dunk them in, and very especially if they are McVitie's chocolate digestives.

Fuck the calories.

And whilst it's not exactly something I feel guilty about I am a bit of a trekky.

On wednesday nights my Mum would go out to some ladies group and my Dad and I would always watch Star Trek together. I love the newer films with all their amazing CGI but the original series will always be the best in my world because it reminds me of those evenings.
I even have the outfit. Having a fancy dress ? No prizes for guessing who I'm coming as.

I still watch it whenever it's on the TV now.

Same goes for the original Batman.

Although Christian Bale in the rubber suit is a whole different kind of pleasure for me nowadays.

And I don't feel the least bit guilty about my Batman fantasies.

Come to mumma. I so would. And then I'd do it again.

Adult guilty pleasures are a whole different thing.

I love porn, always surprises me how many women claim they don't like it or say it's disgusting. Yeah right. More like too uptight to admit it turns them on. Or worse are the ones who think there is something wrong with him because the man in their life likes to watch it.

You might not like golf or football but you don't threaten to leave if he watches it do you.

Watch and learn I reckon.
Porn that is, not football.

But I bet you never thought you could combine your childhood and grown up GPs without getting into all kinds of stuff that's truly wrong ?

Think again.

I found Star Trek - the Porn Version.

Fucking hilarious.

Yup. Those are her pants on his ears. Go Spock.

Funniest thing I've seen in ages. Too busy laughing for anything else.
I could post the link here, but then I'd have to put the adult warning back on, and then the stat counter doesn't work and I need to keep an eye on the lurkers.

If you want it ask me.

Update : After reading this I was asked if I'd ever gotten caught, so I wrote a response. http://dirtycowgirl.blogspot.com/2011/08/only-time-i-ever-got-caught.html