I can honestly say I've never stolen anything in my life. Apart from when I was 13 in the local paper shop. It wasn't a ram-raid or anything, at that age I couldn't plan something of that scale. I put twelve sweets into my 10p mix. After a few weeks I realised the old woman behind the counter wasn't counting what I put in. You know what happens, one thing leads to another. Ten becomes eleven, eleven becomes twelve, and I got away with it, too. That's the main reason why people keep doing it, the fact that they get away with it. But I stopped early. I got home that day, feeling a bit sick from the sugar and swore I wouldn't steal again. Probably because I choked on the last one. Bloody cola bottles.
It was yet another Bullshit Wednesday with Steve. Since he and Mary started going out with other, the bullshit had reduced quite a bit. I guess he had other things on his mind. Mary normally works today, but last week one of her opponents, Death Beth, if you're asking, broke her arm jumping off the ropes. The manager was furious, and ordered a week long course in Wrestling Safety. A little bit of a contradiction, in my opinion. If you want to be safe, don't wrestle.
So it was just me and Steve today, and to stop him banging on about Mary or those little figureens he paints, I started a conversation of my own.
'I watched Forrest Gump last night.'
'Great film.'
'Yeah.' I nodded.
I wanted to talk about 'The Great Films' of our time, but Steve soon sabotaged it.
'You don't get many slow fellas in films, do you?'
'What?'
'Disabled people.'
'Of course you do.'
'Go on then, smart arse. Name some!' Steve ordered.
'You mean disabled people....in films?'
'Yeah.'
'I don't know, erm...Rain Man. He was autistic.'
'Never seen it.'
'The Elephant Man.'
'Yeah, that is a disability.'
I was struggling now. I knew there were loads more, but when you're put on the spot, it's difficult. God knows how Glen the Greeter did it on The Weakest Link, he came third. Thinking back, I could have said the big lad in The Green Mile, the bad guy in The Usual Suspects or Dr Evil, if a scar on your face counted. But I had a bit of a lapse in thought and went for something else.
'Dumbo?'
Steve burst out laughing, which I predicted.
'What? He had a disability, didn't he?' I defended myself.
'By having big ears?'
'Yeah!'
'Joan from the bakery department has big ears, I'm not sure she counts it as a disability!'
I suppose he was right. The checkout team asked us to get them some more bags from the warehouse, something that Steve loves to do, as he can skive without many people noticing him. We walked through the store, past the customer services desk and along the aisle full of Christmas stuff. On our left stood the jewellery stand, where a few people milled about looking at earrings and shiny gold bracelets. I noticed a face I recognised by the watches. It happens a lot at work, you see someone you know and because it's out of context, in a different place, you automatically can't place them. You spend the whole day thinking of their name and hope you don't bump into them. I soon remembered it was Jake, the man who lives next door to me. The half of a young couple who had just had a baby girl. They'd only been living beside me about around six months, he seemed a nice lad. A couple of years older than me, with a stylish overgrown beard and expensive jeans on.
Whilst we passed him, I noticed the watch he was holding slip into his jacket pocket. Me and Steve were walking quite fast, but I'm sure I saw it. I stopped and stepped back a few paces, slowly peering over to where he was stood. There was a bulge in his pocket, like a box was stuck in it, proof of what he had done. I didn't want to believe it at first. I watched him look around the store, biting his top lip with his eyes slightly widened.
'Dylan.'
'Hang on.' I said to Steve, my eyes still on Jake.
'What are you looking at?'
I couldn't tell Steve what I saw. If I didn't want to believe it myself, I couldn't make others believe too.
'Nothing. Thought I saw someone I knew.'
We walked on to the warehouse. Steve chatted to one of the warehouse staff about new film that's not been released yet, whilst perched on a bit of racking along the warehouse walls. I grabbed the box of bags and headed back. It was theft, at least it was going to be, when he decides to walk out of the store without paying. I walked along the same ailse again to check if he was still there. Now he was a few yards away, fingering a knitted jumper that was hung up in front of him. He still looked nervous, looking from side to side and sweating slightly. I couldn't tell anyone. We were neighbours. Neighbours are important, they even made a TV show about them. I don't think they'd make a TV about something that wasn't important, no one would watch it.
I could just forget about it. I'm sure lots of things happen in supermarkets that are not seen or forgotten about. Yeah, I could just have a quick word with him in the morning. Over the garden fence with cup of tea. I'd give him advice and tell him that you could have been caught. Maybe we become good friends afterwards and he would tell me where he gets his nice shoes from. And out of a really bad thing, a really good thing blossoms. The friendship of two neighbours. I can see it now.
'Did you see what I saw?' Danny asked, staring up at me from his security desk.
Oh no. I can't see it any more.
End of part one.
No comments:
Post a Comment