AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Cole didn't laugh often but he laughed his ass off over that one.
Twenty minutes later I got up, thanked him for – well, I wasn't sure what – disconnected and took a shower.
Then I went to one of the nearest stores that was not where people in my new neighborhood shopped. It wasn't where Cole would shop, or send his minions to shop for him. It was just upscale.
I bought a loaf of bread. I made sure to be seen in my scuffed clothes and my POS car. I flooded the engine once on purpose and then once by mistake, just wanting to be certain I was noticed.
I drove back to the apartment and spent a day looking for work. It was every bit as depressing as doing it for real would be. Several places weren't taking applications. I knew it was illegal not to accept a resume. I didn't know if it was illegal not to accept an application. At the end of the day my feet hurt and my smile hurt and my head and heart weren't doing too great.
On Thursday I went back to the expensive store and looked around for a good fifteen minutes before buying a single Coke. I could feel security taking note.
On Friday I went back again and did something similar.
On Sunday I went during the time of day the store was packed with shoppers buying rotisserie chickens for dinner and snacks for whatever football game was on that afternoon. Wearing a low cut t-shirt that clung to my boobs but ballooned out into a smock top, covering the tops of my sweats, the ones with the big pockets that were cut off just below my ass, I tried to look as un-nonchalant while pretending to be nonchalant as I could. I nervously picked up items and put them down again, looked at prices, considered, went back to specific aisles.
And finally I picked up a Coke, a small bag of chips, a packet of fried chicken already consigned to the cold to-go bin, and while juggling those, slipped a box of hair dye into my shirt, holding it awkwardly with my elbow until in plain sight of whoever might be looking, I scratched a sudden itch.
The box of hair dye was redistributed into the tops of my cut off sweats.
Security tagged me before I made the sliding doors. He took my elbow, which he shouldn't have, and drew me aside, letting an old woman on a walker shuffle past.
"Let go of me!" I didn't have to pretend to be incensed.
There was no offer of letting me pay. There was no question of whether I'd forgotten the box of hair dye lodged in the top of my sweats. Or the nail polish in one of the pockets.
He marched me to his office which was in the back of the store, doing it in full view of every customer. He radioed for back up.
Backup! He was grocery store security and I had beauty products in my pocket.
But the cover was enough and my face flamed, more with anger than embarrassment.
"Sit your ass down," he said, and shoved me toward the chair he wanted me to take.
I bit my lip, which hopefully made me look more like a cowed, unlucky girl and not like I was reminding myself to keep my eye on the real prize and not lose it by kidney punching the guy when he was stupid enough to turn his back on me. I could make him pee blood for a week.
Instead, I sat my ass down and cried.
He rolled his eyes at me and called the police. While they were on their way he decided he’d better search me to see if there were any other stolen items on my person. I could guess where this was heading, and given I had lots of pockets, I really wouldn't have been concealing anything there.
But Lily got lucky and the police arrived too soon. He got to feel up a bit of boob. While they were cuffing me, I lost my balance – ditzy shoplifter! – and elbowed him sharply enough in the gut he said "Huh!"
The police didn't seem to care.
I managed not to wink at weaselly security on my way out.
Here's the thing. In Nevada, anything under $650 in value is petty larceny. My hair dye and nail polish were overpriced, especially in that store, and they still didn't even come to over $35.
I was well under the mark of $650 when it becomes grand larceny. Grand larceny can carry sentences up to 10 years in prison and $10,000 in fines.
Petty larceny can only go to 6 months in jail and $1000.
And by the time the courts get around to your case, you're all so old nobody gives a damn anymore. You're out on bond or OR and expected to come to court when ordered, long enough after the event you don't remember what you did that time because of all the times since then you weren't even caught. Vegas has much bigger things to contend with than the shoplifting of beauty products.
Right.
But strangely, after booking that involved my mug shots being sent somewhere, I didn't know where, but emailed, and spending a couple hours in a cell before word came back about – well, everything – it turned out I was going to be arraigned in the afternoon.
"That's unusual, isn't it?" I asked the female guard.
