The Army Saga, Part 4
Note: This is the final entry of an on-going series detailing what my experience was at 14 when I intern?d at an Army Recruiting Office in Morristown, TN. I hope it?s as interesting as I remember it.
In the bathroom of the Army Recruiting Office, I held in my hands the prized possession.
A Playboy magazine. It seemed much heavier than I expected, the pages glossy and shimmering in the flourescent light of the small room.
I thumbed through the pages of naked women, amazed, scared, and heart still beating loudly in my ears. I had taken to thieving from the bookstore, Wal-Mart, and the convenience store on the road next to the mall. Inside the convenience store I had taken candy bars (at first) and over time finally worked my way up to the mother lode, the magazine I had in my hands.
Dammit, I said to myself. I can?t even take this home. I thought briefly of smuggling it home, but wasn?t sure what was worse: Hiding it there or hiding it at home.
As I said, my thieving had brought me plenty of books. I attained Forrest Gump (the book) and found out that not only was it horribly written, it wasn?t anything close to the film which, at the time, had just kicked ass at the Oscars. Pity.
There were close calls, such as the time I had to dump some merchandise from my pockets in Wal-Mart due to some guy giving me the weird eye, and a few times when I got paranoid in the bookstore. But by en large, I began to enjoy the thrill of the act.
Until the day I was caught, of course.
You see, my mother had provided me with $3?4 each day to get lunch with. I would spend all of it on McDonalds or some other local restaurant, then I?d go to the convenience store and try to squeeze out a piece of gum or something with the change left over.
Eventually I figured I?d do them the same way I did the mall: Just take what I want. I had a display blocking their view, where was the risk?
But on that fateful day, the woman who owns the store (turns out) was talking with a police officer. This made me a little nervous, but they were on the other side of the counter. They weren?t even looking in my direction. The Playboy had already been acquired, this was really just going through the motions. Sometimes I would actually buy items to try and mask what I really took. This act was my attempt at being clever. So this time I took a candy bar, stuck it in one of my extra pockets, and carried some gum to the counter.
The lady said goodbye to the cop and came over to me. ?What?s your name?? she said.
I tried to give her the gum. She was adamant. ?Uh?Jesse?? I said (note: I didn?t go by Evan until I was 16).
?What are you doing in here?? What kind of question is that anyway?
?I?m trying to buy some gum,? I said.
?No you?re not,? she said, getting angry now. ?You?re stealing and I?ve been watching you every day now for a week.?
My heart sank. My stomach curled into a knot. I began to get nervous and scared. ?I, uh, I??
?What do you have in your pockets?? I hesitated. ?Don?t play dumb with me boy, let me see it.?
I put the offending Snickers on the counter. ?I?m?sorry,? I said weakly.
?You know I could get you locked up for this?? She said, instilling more fear than I had anticipated on a hot summer day. ?Let me see your license.?
?I don?t have one,? I said honestly. Remember, I was all of 14 at the time.
?What ID do you have?? she said. I pulled out some sort of pseudo-ID that they may have given me in high school. Whatever it was, it wasn?t very official but it did have some contact info on it.
She took it from me and wrote down something. ?You?re 14?? She said increduously.
?Yes,? I answered.
?You?re just 14.?
?That?s right.?
?You know better than this,? she said, and I couldn?t argue with her. Of course I knew better. ?That police officer you saw in here earlier? He?s a good friend of mine. I could have him come back and pick you up. Are we clear?? Oh, we were clear all right. I felt sick.
?I?m so sorr??
?Spare me. Look, get out of here. I don?t want to see you in here again.?
?Y-yes ma?am,? I said, and ran back up to the recruiting office. I told no one what happened, and read for the rest of the day.
Hours later, when my mother arrived, I was confident that I was okay, and would simply never go into that store any more. In my post-caught panic, I even threw away that damned Playboy. In the months following, I would regret that decision, but for no other reason than hormones.
I got in the car with a ?Hi, mom.? I then noticed her expression.
?Have you been stealing??
Oh, hell. This afternoon all over again.
?Mom??
?Because I didn?t raise no thief Jesse, I just won?t put up with it. I have no idea what your father is going to think.?
I was horrified. Of all the people I wanted to look bad in front of, the last person was my father. I begged my mother, tears were present, and I was grounded. I don?t remember the details, but it wasn?t any fun.
And I never stole anything ever again. Hokey I suppose, but it?s the truth. So when I look back on that experience, it not only gave me my first paycheck, it gave me a morality check that kept me clean until the ?hazy? days of Napster. When sharing became the new stealing, and the world went nuts.
I hope everyone enjoyed this one. I got a kick out of writing it. See ya next week.
I was thinking I could clean up for Christmas
Then baby, I?m through
3 Comments:
Awesome story Evan. Thanks for writing and sharing it. Keep them coming.
Naughty Boy.
You very naughty boy.
Who was the playmate in the mag?
Great story, really enjoyed the read. Structured nicely so I had to keep checking back for what happened next.
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