stoled

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Well, my story starts off in an all boys Catholic high school where I was a model student, straight A’s and all. Teachers, students, parents and the principal trusted me implicitly. I was put in charge of organizing the prom for our graduating class so I was responsible for collecting the mon-nay from each student. They also allowed me to hire a helper so I hired my best friend at the time to help collect. We collected mon-nay and gave it to the principal for him to put in an account specially set up for that year’s prom. We were so honest and straight like. We kept accurate records of every dollar we collected.

About a week into the collection we were called to the office by the principal and told information that would change me as a person forever. The principal told us the mon-nay we collected was put into the school account by accident and the school had no idea how much was ours and how much was theirs. So the principal looked at me and said “how much did you collect so far?” He knew without any doubt that I would give him an honest answer. The real answer was $5000.00 but I dishonestly said $8000.00. My best friend looked at me with a confused smile but nodded in agreement. He also knew that split second that anything we collected after this we could put in our pockets. What the hell was I thinking? I was the pinnacle of all that is good……my soul was tarnished and yes I was going to burn in hell for cheating the school out of $3000 bucks.

All the mon-nay we collected after this, about $3000.00, I kept and spit it with my friend. No one ever found out about what we did. Needless to say we both went to the prom in style…super stretch limo, hugo boss tuxedos, presidential suites at the hotel, high-end flowers for the girlfriends. We had a pimping good time! White collar crime rules!

White collar criminal

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Kind of a long story, but here 'tis. Back when I was
maybe 16, I was out at Putt-Putt Golf 'N' Games with
some friends. It's like any mini-golf in that the
last hole has a tube that transports the balls back to
the main ticket counter so that you can't steal the
balls. This particular day, I got all smart and put
my golf club in the hole so that the ball would go in,
but I could still pull the ball out when we were done.

Well, apparently they had been having a lot of trouble
with people stealing and it was getting expensive
(although the balls have to cost what-- five cents?),
so this particular day they had a policeman in the
parking lot. Stupid me, I had the balls I was going
to steal in my hand. I jogged out to the car without
seeing the cop, and he ran up to me, shined a
flashlight in my face (DICK!) and then shined it in my
hand holding the balls. I was caught red-handed! He
took the three colored balls.

Then I remembered I had some food left over in the car
from when we went to Popeye's Chicken before the
golfing. I said, "I was just going back to my car to
get my food. My friends and me are just in the middle
of a game." He said, "Let me see it." I took out the
bag. He said, "Looks like a lot of trash to me. Let
me see your driver's license."

I gave him my driver's license, and he wrote down the
name and number on a big sheet. It must have already
had 100 names on it. Then he said, "That's it." I
stupidly said, "Can I have my ball back?" He gave me
a look like, "Are you really serious?" Then he said,
"Let me meet your friends."

I went inside with him shaking like a maraca. How
could I have been so stupid as to continue my lie to a
policeman? But fortunately my friends had already
gone off to play video games, and we couldn't find
them. I said, "I don't know where they went." He
said, "Whatever. Don't steal again." Then he left.
I thought about calling out to him, "Wait a minute,
when I find them they're gonna be pissed about not
being able to finish the game." But I realized he'd
probably want to know their names and call them at
home or something, so I stopped myself. After all, we
HAD finished the game. So I shut my stupid thieving
mouth.

When I got home, I was worried that my parents would
get a call from the police. So I prepped them with my
version of the story. My parents totally believed me
because I was generally a good kid. My Dad said
(correctly), "Don't worry about it, he was just
probably trying to scare you." Indeed, the cops never
called. And I never stole golf balls from Putt-Putt
again.

We did, however, borrow putters from my friend
Robert's Dad, take some old golf balls from a local
golf course rough, and play about 100 free games of
Putt-Putt over the next two years. Good thing I never
got caught at that.

The moral of the story is: be a very, very good
student and straight-shooter, and when you get piss
drunk at age 14 and go to a football game and someone
tells your parents, they don't believe it.

-Ashamed in D.C.

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When I was about 5 years old, I went into a sewing shop with my mom. Being
young and easily amused, I picked up a thimble out of a huge bin and played
with it while Mommy Dearest browsed. When we walked out of the store, I
still had the shiney thimble on my finger. About half way home, my mom
looked over and saw it, and she asked me if I had stolen it. Terrified, I
nodded my head and my mom went off about how terrible stealing was and how
only bad people steal. I got to keep the thimble, but that escapade scarred
me for life... 15 years later, and I've never stolen a thing.

~Kate
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hey there-

when i was 17 i had a hankering for stealing lingerie from mall department stores. after amassing a fine collection, 2 days after turning 18, i was finally caught. i was walking out of the store into the mall area when someone tapped me on the shoulder and said, 'i'd like to talk to you about the bras you're wearing'. i had about 5 on at the time, i was hauled away by plain clothes officers and taken to the police station. my folks had to pick me up, i was mortified.

i got a letter from the store demanding reparations, they asked that i pay the retail price of the goods i stole. ok, fine. i also got a letter for a court date. i went to court and told the judge that i had already paid the reparations. he then asked what i was doing there. see... the store can either take you to court or collect reparations, not both. turns out they were making a pretty penny making shoplifters do both. the judge went on a tirade about the ethics of the store's prosecution. i was off without a hitch. the county investigated the store and they got in lots more trouble.

good news is - getting caught was enough to straighten me out. haven't done it since.

~cindy

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