Opinion
I apprehended a shoplifter in a carpark. The outcome was unexpected
Kerri Sackville
Columnist and authorA couple of weeks ago, I apprehended a shoplifter in the carpark of my local shopping centre. Now, you probably wouldn’t have picked me as a vigilante, but that day was unusual, in many ways.
I had just returned to my car (parked, as always, on level two because if I park anywhere else I will lose my car and spend an hour wandering around before contacting security, only to have them drive me in a buggy to my car, which is embarrassing; it has happened to me twice), and noticed the woman, mid-theft.
“I am not a criminal. I am just extremely absent-minded.”Credit: iStockphoto
She was placing a rather large black backpack from a sports store into her boot. I had been in that store at the same time, and knew the woman had not paid for the bag. I was horrified, and told her in no uncertain terms to return it, then marched her back to the store.
Now, I know what you’re thinking: How did I know she hadn’t paid for the backpack?
Because it was me. I was the woman. I stole a backpack from a store.
To be fair, I didn’t mean to steal the bag. I just took it without paying. There is a difference, you know. I am not a criminal. I am just extremely absent-minded.
The purpose of my visit was to buy a backpack for my daughter. She was at home studying, so I FaceTimed her as I browsed the racks. I picked several backpacks and held them up, one by one, to my phone, so she could examine them from each angle.
We made a shortlist, and I modelled two bags for her on my own back, before she settled on a black one with white stripes.
“Perfect!” she said, beaming. “Thanks, Mum!”
I returned the unwanted bags to their racks, and felt the rush of satisfaction for completing something on my to-do list. I tucked the backpack under my arm, ran a hand over some outrageously expensive footwear (who on earth pays $25 for a pair of white socks?), and headed to the checkout.
I made small talk with the cashier, paid for my purchase, and returned to my car. But when I opened my boot and tossed the new backpack and my handbag inside, I realised something I hadn’t previously noticed. What was this thing on my back?
I was tired, and did not feel like schlepping back to level five. Still, I could not countenance taking stolen goods home.
KERRI SACKVILLE
In a hot flush of mortification, I understood: I was still wearing one of the backpacks I had modelled for my daughter. I had picked up one bag, which I’d paid for, while walking blithely out of the store with one I hadn’t. The price tags were still attached: dangling, prominent.
I was tired, and did not feel like schlepping back to level five. Still, I could not countenance taking stolen goods home. For one shameful moment, I considered just getting in my car and tossing the damn thing out the window.
But I knew what I had to do. I am not a thief! Apart from the odd stolen grape in the supermarket fruit aisle, I have never knowingly shoplifted a thing. I sighed heavily, grabbed my handbag and keys, and sheepishly returned to the store.
“Hi,” I said to the cashier, holding out the proceeds of my crime. “Um … I took this by accident earlier.”
He looked slightly alarmed, then puzzled, then curious. I handed over the backpack and recounted the story. His eyes widened in disbelief and then his face broke into a grin.
“Wow,” he said. “Thank you so much for returning it! I really appreciate your honesty!”
This was gratifying. I had expected the cashier to snatch the bag out of my hands, perhaps with a pointed stare and some harsh words of warning.
“Oh, no problem,” I said, warmly. “I can’t be dishonest. It’s not in my nature!”
This wasn’t true, of course. I can be dishonest if I really try. But 10 minutes earlier I had been flooded with shame. Now, I was swelling with pride.
“Well, thanks again!” he said. He looked around, and for a moment, I thought he might be about to offer me a gift voucher, or a free pair of socks, or a plaque reading “Customer of the Year”. But I realised, of course, that good deeds are their own rewards, and I bid him farewell.
In future, when I shop, I’ll pat myself down for stolen wares before I leave. The whole experience, however, has taught me a valuable lesson. Shoplifting is wrong, and one should never do it. But accidentally shoplifting and then returning the goods? That can make you feel like a hero.
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