Slick

I’m watching this guy shoplift cheese and he’s slick. I didn’t do anything, because I was so fascinated with his method. So, I thought I’d share. You never know.

He’s at the dairy counter with a basket—I’m assuming he’s pricing alternatives. He picks up a honkin slab of cheddar and looks it over, but here’s the rig—he actually has two of the product in his right hand. The sleeve on his jacket is open wide and the cuff just encompasses the booty. With a push from his left index finger, the bottom brick slides under the top one and into the sleeve. Then he puts back the remaining product (as if that’s all he ever had) and moves on. I tail him.

Now he’s in the snack aisle, twenty feet further, and he reaches up to the top shelf for a bag of spits. Whatever he’s been collecting in his coat sleeve just dropped into the flank. He never looked up, or side-to-side. I’d peg him at mid-thirties, reasonably dressed and nondescript, a typical suburban dad with a family in the car while he runs in for ‘just one thing’. Then on to soccer. The guy was a real magician and probably practiced in his kitchen. Damn resourceful.

Now, of course I’m joking—about any insinuation that you might need to thieve some food. I know that for you the doors of the universe open and if you’re on a job, you will have your cheese.

 

Aside: I suppose there’s some jurisdictions where it would behoove me to report these doings to the local authorities. I’m a writer; I’m doing that now.

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