I’m Never Going To Stop Stealing From The Self-Checkout
The first time I shoplifted, I almost got away with it. I attempted to slide a Reese’s peanut butter cup in my pocket.
Unbeknownst to me was a clerk who was watching me on camera the entire time. Which was kind of racist. I just happened to be stealing that day. It was completely coincidental. Before I could make it out the store, the clerk removed her klan hood and made me put the Reese’s back.
She had burning crosses for eyes. Though I was terrified, there was a soft vibration that ran through my body. Blood rushed through my veins like a ravishing current. My heart was pumping dopamine. My pupils were dilated. I felt alive.
But regardless of her stance on racial superiority, I was wrong.
I made myself a promise that day: I was never going to steal again.
I kept that promise up until a few years ago when I discovered the never-ending sale at the self-check-out line. While taking my groceries to my car, I noticed there was a pack of bottled waters that I had mistakenly forgotten to scan. “Honest mistake. I’ll just run in and scan the water.”, I thought to myself.
I made it about half-way in before I felt that soft vibration take over me.
