2003-01-29|11:46 p.m.
In the four years I have worked customer service, I have never caught a shoplifter. This doesn�t in anyway mean that people do not shoplift in my general area because I am on the clock. Yes, I know that I am intimidating-- all 120 lbs. of me. But, I know that they still do it despite my precarious demeanor, because I constantly find opened packages and other evidence of theft all the time while cleaning up my department. I just lack the ability to pick out the face of someone who will steal; whereas, my co-workers tend to be much more skilled at this. Unfortunately, it just means that they follow around black kids and homeless people with hope that they will �catch� them in what they think is the inevitable. Sucks to me, I guess, because I think this is just pretty fucked up.
So, the other day, this guy Jake from work comes up and takes me from the booth where I am helping another girl check in videos. He tells me, �Go watch these girls on 7C, I am pretty sure they are going to shoplift.�
So, I go.
As I approach, I can see that they are two blonde haired girls no older than high school freshmen. They are on the feminine hygiene and sex related aisle, sitting right in front of the pregnancy tests. I begin straightening maxi-pads to watch them and still appear like I am not. But, since I can immediately tell that they know what I am doing, I too know what they are doing. And I feel uneasy about catching someone stealing.
But, I continue and inch in closer. One girl I can see is crying. I begin to feel sick to my stomach.
�You have to check,� the friend says. She looks at me and then back at her friend who doesn�t look up from the ground.
�But I don�t want him to leave me,� the girl says. Her voice sounds drowned and this is worse to me than actually seeing her cry.
And instantly, I know that I don�t belong there. I look over to the girls and give them a small smile and walk away. I�ve let them know that I am letting them do what they need to do.
I watch from far off, in the mirrors, the friend gets up and enters the bathroom with her backpack. I know that this is where she will steal the test and return to her friend and leave. From there, I don�t know what will happen. I just walk back to Jake and tell him that they didn�t do anything. He looks disappointed in me, like I failed to shoot a bird in a cage.
All that night, I replay the words, �But I don�t want him to leave me.� And I think of the friend who was near her.