Do the Right Thing

I've always been a law abiding citizen. Well, mostly. I do follow my own set of rules from time to time but for the most part I adhere to the mores set forth by society. I have good judgement and know when it's OK to bend a rule here or there. I also know there are certain things you just don't do, especially if you can easily be caught. Take shoplifting for example. Years ago I may have thought nothing of sliding a Slim Jim up the sleeve of my shirt at 2am in a 7-11 but I'd never do such a thing now. I'm certainly more mature, have money to pay for munchies and wouldn't dream of eating a Slim Jim anyway, but mostly because the stakes are higher. I am a mother. I could never look my kids in the eye again. Then there's the humiliation in front of my peers, my friends, my family. What would my mother-in-law say?

Then there's technology to consider. Cameras are everywhere now. So much more so than in those old days when all you had to do was have a friend distract the cashier for a moment. Now there are cameras in the stores, parking lots and in every cell phone of every customer. Getting caught red-handed, I mean, in the act is so much more of a possibility. It would be on You Tube in minutes. Within five minutes there would be a Facebook page about it. Global humiliation. Not to mention the arrest.

That's why I was shocked, stunned really, Friday to watch a well dressed woman bolt out of the liquor store with a bottle in her Louis Vuitton purse. Before I even knew what I was doing I pointed at her and yelled to the cashier, "She's got a bottle in her purse. She just stole it!!!!!" I felt kind of like that smarmy kid in class who wrote your name on the board for talking when the teacher was out of the room. But I was so aghast I couldn't control myself. I followed the action into the parking lot. The clerk caught up with her at her car and took the wine from her and told her never to come back. I quickly flashed to a scene in a dusty town with the Sheriff running off the outlaw with a,"Don't come back, ya here?"

I asked what she said in response and the clerk told me she just started crying. "Poor thing," I thought. I really did feel badly for her. My friend Parker was with me and as we loaded my purchased booze into the car we pondered why she did it. Was she poor? Didn't seem to be. Well groomed, nice purse, drove a Highlander. Maybe she's an alcoholic and has no cash and can't charge it because her family will see it. Parker wished we could follow her to see what she would do next. I figured she would be long gone and was a little sorry for it. As I pulled to a stoplight Parker mentioned once more that he wished to follow her and lo and behold there was a Highlander pulling into a convenient getaway spot in the CVS parking lot! We had her.

Unfortunately the light was red. I was really wishing I had a siren and one of those Starsky and Hutch police lights I could throw on the roof to cruise through and nab the perp. However, I waited until it turned green and drove the posted speed limit, used my turn signal, and parked in a marked parking space. Parker wanted me to park her in but that would have blocked the drive-thru lane and I couldn't do such a thing even in the name of justice. I had no authorization.

We ran into the store and quickly made our way from aisle to aisle searching for the woman in the black and white top. And there she was in the pain relief aisle. Parker went to scout out what she was up to as I informed the store personnel. As the clerk called the manager who announced for security to scan all aisles Parker followed the lady around the store. She was carrying 8 bottles of Motrin PM and two boxes of Crest White Strips. I guess if you drink enough Motrin PM it could wreak havoc on your smile. Parker continued to follow her periodically updating us as to her behavior: walking erratically, putting the items in her purse, running out the door. The crack CVS staff did nothing to stop her. It seemed as though they really didn't care. But not to worry. Parker and Bebe were on the case. We ran out after her as she was pulling out of the parking lot. I think she's a pro. She knew just what she was doing. The look of surprise on her face as Parker ran after her was priceless. I don't think she thought we'd follow. Parker got the license number from her car and we went back inside.

Now, I didn't expect to be greeted as heros but when we told them we got her license number and the make of the car they didn't seem to care. The clerk reluctantly wrote down the information and shrugged mumbling something about maybe filing a police report.

For the second time in 15 minutes I was stunned. Really? You're doing nothing? I was so disappointed. I felt we had really done a good job tracking her and telling on her. But no one cared. We considered calling the police ourselves but chose not to. I'm not sure why and in hindsight it may have been a really good idea to call. This woman is obviously suffering in some way. Why else would she steal a magnum of Yellowtail Chardonnay one minute and Ibuprofin and teeth bleach the next? Then I started to feel guilty. Not for telling on her and following her but for not approaching her and calling her out and then asking if she needed help. Maybe she wanted to get caught. Maybe she needs attention because her kids are grown and her husband left her and she feels lonely. Maybe she's off her medication. Maybe she has some serious debt and is really desperate.

I'm a little disappointed in myself for realizing too late I may have been able to do something to help her. I was way too caught up in the chase living out a real life cops and robbers game from my youth. But maybe that's just it. The thrill was what it was all about for her. It certainly was for Parker and me. I can imagine the story she's telling her cronies or those at her shoplifter's support group, "... and then he came out of the store to get my license number! I almost hit another car trying to get away from him!" And as she finishes the story she chuckles and basks in the memory of it and how it made her feel.

So the next time I have a glass of Chardonnay I'll be sure to think about her and wonder what she's up to. I wonder if the next time she's in a store contemplating taking something without paying if she'll think about me.