Interviewer: Stealing is an extremely taboo topic. There’s a lot of scornful disdain that most people have toward people who steal. Some more cultures more than others of course. The United States must be the most dismissive of stealing, but in Asia, it’s a capital offense. But even in America, the act of stealing is regarded with contempt. With that in the background, there is a dearth of honest information in circulation about the reality in life that people steal. Personally, I find everything regarding the subject of stealing to be so untrustworthy as to not be worth reading. There’s too much that has to be just right for the thief to be open and honest with what they reveal. They have to be at a point in their own life where they are comfortable with their past transgressions. They have to know that what they discuss won’t be pinned on them in the future, and nothing like that can be guaranteed with any real certainty. Surely there are other prerequisites that are slipping my mind, but the final hurdle that I feel prevents honest discord on this subject is the interviewer’s relationship with the thief. So with that in mind, I would like to start this interview by asking you, what makes you feel like you can discuss your past, and maybe even your present with me here today? We’ve been friends for years. What compelled you to do this with me? We could have safely gone on with life without you risking anything, but you volunteered to have this interview with me. I’m deeply appreciative, but also intensely curious about your motives.
Thief: Yes, we’ve known each other for quite a while, but that hasn’t prevented me from shielding this aspect of my life from other people. Most people can’t handle hearing this. Family especially. I can trust you, and be open for the sake of storytelling. That’s one reason why I’m doing this with you. To help you make great content. Also, I read the things that you write, and I deeply enjoy them. So when you mentioned to me that you were thinking about writing a fictional interview between you and someone who steals prolifically, I decided to bring you into my past. Maybe I thought that it would bring me some sort of personal catharsis, but mostly I wanted to help you. To have a friend that I could be gut-level honest with. I’m kind of curious to see what results from this interview with our relationship. See what happens when I trust someone and am honest. Your writing is interesting. More interesting than the vast majority of the internet. The opportunity to contribute to something that you publish was an opportunity that appealed to me. Personally, I remember the days when I would try to find information about this topic, and what I found was never interesting or enlightening. I can’t think of a moment when I read something online about theft and found it helpful or interesting. Changing that was appealing to me. I guess the concise answer to your question of trust is some combination of fandom and a hypothesis that I might find some sort of personal liberation. Oh, and of course the curiosity. Some morbid fascination with the result of being vulnerable. As I told you when we initially discussed this, I’ve never mentioned my stealing to anyone. It’s always been a secret that I was determined to keep hidden.
I: Thank you for the kind words. I am also quite interested in how this conversation unfurls. Let’s start at the beginning. What is your first memory of stealing? How old were you? Where was it? Describe everything that comes to mind.
T: I’ll do my best. I’m not sure of my exact age but I remember the moment clearly. I was probably nine and at that particular moment, I had a hamster. My mom and I would go to Petsmart. Never Petco. We would get all sorts of different things for the hamster to eat. One item that the hamster was obviously fond of was this edible, cylindrical object coated with all kinds of things a hamster would eat. Nuts, seeds, things like that. On this particular day, I was wearing a hoodie with a pouch to warm my hands. My mom and I go through the store and checkout. Nothing exceptional happened. We drove back home and when we start unloading the things she bought at Petsmart, I somehow discover that I had placed one of those hamster cylinders inside my hand pouch and forgotten about it. I went through the store and the ride home having no clue that I had an unpaid hamster food item in my hoodie. My mom was shocked by this. I remember that. She was in no way encouraging of what had happened, but she understood that it was an honest accident. I don’t remember exactly how I felt about the whole incident. I imagine that I was mostly shocked. It never happened again and that incident didn’t feel transformative or exceptionally noteworthy. It just felt like a crazy accident. Something that would happen once, and wouldn’t happen again.
I: You clearly remember the moment well.
T: It was a shocking revelation, especially to someone my age. I had always grown up thinking that petty shoplifting like that was somehow impossible. I guess that’s how I felt then. Like I had just done something impossible.
I: In your opinion, was that what started your… I’m not sure how to say this… a penchant for stealing?
T: I’m fine with whatever word you want to use. Clepto is a funny one. I don’t mind it. ‘Stealing addict’ is incisive, but I can’t credibly object to it. Thief is brusque, but also accurate so I can’t get indignant about that one either. Really, I’m fine with all of them. I’ve accepted my past behavior, and I’m at peace with my present.
I: Wow. I’m sure if a woman heard that, they’d start dripping with desire for some of your enlightenment to rub off on them. You could start a sex cult with that attitude.
T: Hahaha. I’m happy with one. Two to keep me attractively detached, but any more than that isn’t something up my alley.
I: But really, I’m quite curious. What do you think started your persistent stealing?
T: I understand your curiosity. I can’t remember the first time that I deliberately stole, so that’s not what I think of when I think about how my stealing started. I could call my stealing, “it”, but I’ll reciprocate your straightforward earnestness regarding this. The event that I think of when I think about what started my stealing was a trip to Walmart with a childhood friend during the last year of high school. I don’t remember what we went there to get. At the checkout aisle, we didn’t do self-checkout, he asked me if I liked one of the gum packets above the conveyor belt. Flippantly, I said “yeah”. It felt like a silly question, and I didn’t really pay attention to it. Everything that followed seemed completely typical. The cashier rotely processed our purchase. We paid. Then we went back to the car with what we bought. Once we were inside the car, I can’t remember whose car it was, my friend silently pulls out the gum packet I dismissively said I liked and started chewing. Nothing was said. When I saw that gum packet that he pulled out from his pocket, I was stupefied. We both laughed. He was so smooth about it. The whole thing was truly hilarious and I’ll never forget that moment.
I: That’s funny. I can imagine your disbelief. How did your stealing evolve? Like, what items did you steal in the beginning? How did you steal them?
T: Yeah, the beginning was a long time ago. There are some things that I distinctly remember, but there’s a lot that I’ve forgotten. The beginning was college. That’s when I did all my “learning”. Most of which was through trial and error. Getting caught but not apprehended. Developing my “ethics”, if I dare call them that. The two items I distinctly remember stealing during that time were clothes and food. I’ll go through some of the prickly situations I found myself in, but first I just want to give a general overview of what, and how I typically stole. With clothes, I’m pretty sure I just folded them up and put them under my clothes in the least obvious way. Around my waist, beneath my underwear, anywhere that was appropriately concealed and didn’t obviously hinder my gait. I’m sure that in the beginning, I was extremely paranoid about it all. I’m sure that I always had the foresight to remove all the tags that could be removed, and to leave alone the clothes that had any kind of special tag that only a special tool could remove. I can’t remember any incident that followed me stealing clothes. Unlike with food. Food was definitely the thing I stole the most during, and after, college. There were a lot of incidents I went through involving getting caught stealing food. Caught, but never apprehended. That’s something I’ve learned. Getting caught, and getting apprehended are two very different things.
I: That’s very interesting.
T: Yes, well one time I was at a Costco. During “the college years”, my stealing ethics were not developed. After college, I stopped stealing from Costco. After this incident actually. I made a decision to not steal from the rare chain stores that treated their workers humanely. So just Costco and Trader Joe’s. Both, out of respect, and because those workers were more diligent in preventing theft. So with Costco, I would eat stuff in the store and then discard the empty container somewhere in the store. Huge rookie move. Well, one time I ate a container of blueberries before tossing the plastic container somewhere in the kitchen supplies section. Walking away from where I discarded the empty plastic container, I felt a certain energy from this guy. After calmly walking by him, I quickly peek back at where I left the evidence, and the guy giving me suspicious vibes is holding the empty plastic container. At this point, I’m probably seventy feet away from him. Probably three-fourths of the length of a Costco aisle. Immediately I calmly, but quickly, walk away toward the exit with the cart I have. Along the way toward the exit, I drop off the cart somewhere. Where exactly, I don’t remember. Somewhere near the checkout stands. What I do remember is that my sole intent was to leave the premises as quickly as possible without drawing any more attention to me. Ever since then, I’ve never stolen from Costco. I actually like Costco. It’s a company I respect, and admire.
So that’s what I remember as the moment that developed my “stealing morals”. From then on, Costco and Trader Joe’s were off the list because they treat their workers with dignity.
As far as methods go, there has been an evolution… or maybe ‘refinement’ is the more appropriate word. If memory serves, I started out with the typical pocket and jacket stuffing. The problem with that is that there isn’t a lot you can steal without being blatantly obvious. I think the thing I did to scale it all up was to just walk out with unbagged groceries in a cart. This worked sometimes, and when it did, it netted the most food of any of my methods ever did, but there were two problems with this approach. One was that it was unpredictably successful. There were times when I’d be sure that I removed all the possible security devices but still activated the alarms and locked the cart tires after passing a store exit. The tires would lock, and I would know that alarm sirens were about to start. When that happened, I just let go of the cart and walked away from the store as calmly as I could. Leaving behind a shopping cart full of stuff behind. I distinctly remember this happening one time just as someone was about to enter the store. They saw me just let go of the cart and abandoned it. I don’t know what happened after that because I didn’t dare look back after I ditched my proverbial smoking gun.
At this time, I was prioritizing fruits and vegetables because those didn’t have bar codes, which I thought were the culprit for causing the cart tires to sometimes lock. When fruits and vegetables, especially organic ones, had bar codes, they were easy to remove.
The second problem with the “cart method” was that workers could (and sometimes would) notice a cart full of unbagged products even if the exit alarms didn’t. The most vivid example of this that I remember was walking out of a grocery store one night with a cart full of things I knew wouldn’t set off the alarm. As I walked through the exit doors, a guy dressed like a manager walked into the store. He had a button-up collared shirt and some sort of khaki pants. Not the typical apron and branded cap. Without saying anything he takes my cart, swings it around, and takes it back into the store. I didn’t say anything and just left.
So there was the “cart evolution”. I can only think of one other change in approach that I consistently implemented. That would be shifting away from carts to bags that I brought from home. Big, reusable bags.
I’m not sure what spurned the “bag evolution”, but it’s by far the best method. Even on the rare times that I got caught, I was still able to leave the store with everything I put in the bag. The “bag method” is simply bringing a large reusable bag from home, stuffing it with what you want, and leaving. What’s great about it is that you blend in with your surroundings. If you walk calmly, there’s nothing to differentiate you from the typical waste-conscious shopper. The conscientious good samaritan who cares about the waste that single-use shopping bags create. There are no locking cart tires to worry about either since you’re carrying everything.
I: And what happens when you get caught doing the “bag method”?
T: It depends. Sometimes there’s the worst-case scenario of a manager suspecting you while you’re walking around the store. When that happens, I either put everything in my bag back to where it belongs, or I leave through the nearest exit, bag or no bag. I can’t remember ever having to do the latter, but with the former, I just act like a regular second-guessing shopper and slowly put everything back. Trying to keep whoever is watching me holding the belief that I’m not on to them. Looking back, it’s hard to believe that the person who is tailing me could be persuaded that I wasn’t stealing. I don’t know. Maybe they were just intimidated and prioritized a calm, peaceful resolution. One that doesn’t alarm the law-abiding shoppers. That’s probably in some training manual about how to deal with thieves. I remember one example of this quite clearly that happened at an upscale grocery store. This older guy in a button-up and slacks followed me from a distance. He had to be a higher-up. I felt his presence behind me when I was in the meat section. I’m not sure why he didn’t confront me, but he didn’t. I just put everything in my bag back to where it belonged and left. That was it. But overall, the “bag method” probably works ninety percent of the time, incident-free. Actually, nine out of ten times isn’t right. It’s more like ninety-six percent of the time.
I: That’s an incredibly high success rate. Do you think there’s anything else that helps you not get caught?
T: I’m careful to go to different stores as much as I can. Preferably ones that aren’t right next to where I live. That’s a big deal to me. I don’t think of grocery and department store workers as capable people, but they’re not retarded. They will recognize me if I go there more than once a week. Everyone, grocery store workers included, can recognize familiar faces. There was one store that I would visit almost every day to nab some free beverages and berries. One day a worker confronted me after I exited and told me he’d been watching me. The conversation went on and I didn't say anything. Maybe I said, “no”, but I never broke stride while leaving the premises. That’s also important. These workers are never going to follow you home. They’ll never leave their parking lots, and they’ll be reticent to even leave the store.
I: I would guess not, but the thought popped into my head and now I have to ask. Do you ever visit stores where you’ve been caught?
T: Only after at least three months have passed, and then I’m even more careful. I go at a crowded time. I look for the person who identified me. I listen to and feel everything happening around me, and above all, I’m quick. Stealing is a game of swiftness and blending in.
I: Interesting. Just to put a bow on it, or in case I interrupted, was there anything else you do that you think helps you not get caught? You just mentioned the practice of switching up your targeted stores. Is there anything else?
T: Yes, thank you for bringing me back to that. There are some other things that I do that, while less important than changing up target stores, are still important in my mind. One is that I try to act, and move, lackadaisical. Like a lazy shopper. No rush, no urgency. Second is that I dress to fit in. Black pants, black shoes, and either a black or white plain shirt. Never anything eye-catching. And maybe the last thing is paying attention to the workers. Not obviously staring at them, but keeping track of the faces I see. If I see the same face more than once, I get weary.
I: Fascinating. This system is so interesting! This question just popped into my mind. What was the dollar amount of your bounties? With the “cart method”, and the “bag method”.
T: Well the “cart method” was used primarily when I was eating less meat. So I was looking for things like organic produce, natural peanut butter, alternative milk, and things like that. I’d estimate the “cart method” typically netted me two-hundred dollars of groceries per visit. When I visit big-box department stores, I take bags from the self-checkout and put them in my cart. After I’m done getting everything I want, I put it all in bags inside the store before returning the cart to a cart station and calmly taking out all my bags. So that’s a slight combination of both methods. That easily passes the two-hundred-dollar mark. Especially if I include expensive items like luxurious sheets, blenders, or coffee makers.
The “bag method” was instantiated when I was back on eating animal protein. With that, I targeted protein, coffee beans, berries, and occasionally kitchen essentials or toiletries. Those probably net me around one hundred and twenty dollars of items.
I: No one has noticed you bagging items inside the store? Don’t cameras see every aisle in those types of stores?
T: Regarding the people, I use my ears to listen for footsteps, and when I hear them approaching, I just stop and act like I’m looking at stuff. People, staff included, are oblivious. What I’m doing is too unexpected to be comprehended. As for the cameras, I don’t know. I’m sure they’re picking up what I’m doing, but I seriously doubt that someone is attentively watching every second of every camera. Think about it, there must be one-hundred cameras in a store like that. Are there really going to be personnel looking at every camera, every second of the day? I don’t think so. That’s expensive. It’s cheaper to just hire one overwhelmed watcher. Now they might see me, but that’s never happened, and if it did, I’d try to leave the store before they had the time to gather themselves and confront me. I do the “door-bagging” near the exit of course.
I: Wow, I guess that makes sense. I’ve never thought of that. How frequently do you visit these stores?
T: I eat an irresponsible amount of food. Probably six times a month.
I: So with food, by my math, you save about $720 a month. Does that sound right to you?
T: I’ve never sat down and analyzed it, but that total wouldn’t surprise me. It’s probably conservative.
I: So would you say that the vast majority of the places you hit up are grocery stores?
T: Yes. It’s rare that I go to a Target-like store. Actually, I walked out with an extremely expensive blender once, and they have some ridiculously overpriced sheets that I steal, but usually, I just go there for the occasional kitchen accouterment. While I’m there, I’ll throw in some clothing items if any catch my eye and don’t have tags that are stapled to them.
I: And this is with the “cart method” fusion that you mentioned before?
T: Yes. Sometimes I’ll go there on the way to someplace else and stop by if I have a backpack. During these semi-spontaneous visits, I usually am just targeting one specific, small thing. If I plan on going there, then yes, I use the method I mentioned before where I bag things in an unpopular aisle near the exit and leave quickly before any potential confrontation can occur. At Target specifically, they keep carts inside the store so I just walk up to the cart lines, unload all of my bags, and walk out.
I: Amazing. No one says anything to you when you’re walking to the cart lines with all the filled bags or when you’re actually in the process of bagging the unpaid merchandise?
T: Definitely not while I’m walking the cart with everything bagged. I don’t feel even the slightest bit apprehensive if workers walk by me at that moment. Sometimes, I walk by all the checkout aisles toward an entrance that’s farther away from me even if there’s a cart station right by another entrance. Just for fun. Like a little test. No, bagging everything is the critical moment. When that's happening, I need to listen intently. Footsteps, keys, voices. If I hear any of those, which I usually do, I immediately stop and calmly look at whatever garbage merchandise is in front of me. No one has ever confronted me doing this, and there have been occurrences where I’m sure people have caught me moving fast. My theory is that people are like other animals. We sense fear and guilt more than we critically examine our environment.
I: I’m deeply curious about your experiences getting caught. They feel like something that’s inevitable with the choices you made. Besides the times that you’ve already mentioned, can you tell me about any other times you got noticed or caught?
T: You’re right about that feeling. Getting caught comes with it. Getting caught is how you improve your techniques. How you learn. I’ll do my best to remember all the times I’ve been caught. I’ve been doing this for probably a decade, so there might actually be some instances that I’ve forgotten. Getting caught stopped being special, noteworthy, or traumatic, a long time ago. Let’s see… I’ve mentioned the manager swinging my cart around because he saw unbagged merchandise. I’ve talked about the time when the guy had been watching me routinely visit the same store for months. Oh, I think I haven't mentioned this. I was driving home from a vacation two hundred miles away from where I live, and decided that it would be a great time to stop by a grocery store in a somewhat affluent area that I had never visited before. This was a little past six in the morning which is the opposite of ideal. At that time, there aren’t a lot of other shoppers, and all the employees there are just starting their day. They’re at their most alert. The day hasn’t beaten them down yet. None of this mattered to me. I was just going to be quick, and the grocery store was very large. I walked around the edges of the store once. Picking up expensive protein and putting it in my large, black, reusable bag. Things like turkey thighs, venison, and yogurt. Expensive sources of protein. I walk around the store and get everything I want in less than three minutes. Then I walk towards the entrance that I did not use to come inside and I walk out. Not really bothering to make sure that there aren’t any employees who spot me. Right then I just don’t care. I know nothing will come of it even if someone spots me. The most effort I could give at that moment to prevent myself from being noticed is walking normally like I’m just a regular person grocery shopping at 6:15 AM. Anyways, some guy at the deli counter noticed that I skipped self-checkout and asks me loudly, “are you going to check out?” It was pretty dumb in my opinion. He was probably surprised at what that morning brought him. I’m pretty sure that he followed me out of the store, but I didn’t look back. I didn’t care. I had a rental car. Maybe he could take a picture and trace the rental car with the help of some legitimate detectives, but that felt like way too much work for someone who slices turkey all day. To say I was unconcerned would be a drastic understatement. I walk back to the car, put my bag in the backseat, and drive away. Not even a small deal.
Hmm… I told you about when the manager at the bourgeois grocery store just followed me around while I put everything back. Let’s see… what else? There have been multiple times when I used the “cart method” and the wheels locked up, and the alarms went off after I left the store. As I said, when that happens, I just leave the cart and calmly walk away. Trying to maintain an aura of innocent calm.
Oh, here’s an exciting one. Years ago, I would drive to this affluent community because there was a church that hosted free basketball in their gym. One day, before we started, I hit up a neighboring grocery store. This was before I developed the “bag method”. Actually, this was when I still did the amateur thing of eating food inside the store. At this ritzy place, I would eat their sushi in the bathroom before going on to steal other things. Looking back on it now, I cringe. Not at the stealing, but at the eating in the bathroom. I was poor, but also retarded. Without class. Oh well. Anyways, eating in a store is such a newbie move. Amateur stuff. The kind of thing a high school girl does to get weight loss pills. So eventually, someone went into the bathroom after I left and picked out the empty plastic sushi container that I threw in the trash. They had to dig through the trash because I was careful not to leave my refuse right at the top. Eventually, I notice that a manager-looking woman is mirroring me throughout the store. Not letting me out of her view. This mirroring goes on for two long minutes, maybe one, before she says something to me about if I’m going to pay. My memory isn’t super clear on what she said exactly. At this point, I think I just walked out without saying anything. I was at the back of the store so I had to walk by her and ignore her questions. By this point, I was well-versed in saying nothing in response to questions. While my memory isn’t clear about exiting that store, my memory is quite clear about leaving the parking lot. That time, one of the junior employees actually followed me out. It was dark outside. Probably winter. Without breaking into a run, I get into my car as quickly as possible. This car was one that I owned. I see the junior employee who was tasked with retrieving my refuse, take out his phone. He was trying to take a picture of my car. At this point, I’m focusing all of my energy on getting out of there as quickly as possible. I think the tires skidded as I left that parking lot. This might be wrong, but the junior employee seemed to be bumbling with his phone. A routine action ruined by the adrenaline of chasing a criminal. The magnitude of the moment seemed to fluster him. Like a cop pulling out their gun in the real world for the first time. Nothing came of it regarding the police or any kind of legal enforcement entity. Just another case of apprehension being much different than being caught in the act.
Another time that comes to mind where I got caught, happened in college. Somehow I discovered that the metal lattice that covers most refrigerated shelves below glass display cabinets at cafes can be pulled out enough to push your hand through the opening between the metal lattice and the bottom of the glass cabinet. Especially if the lock that’s used to secure the lattice has a long “U”. If the lock is small, the lattice usually can’t be pulled out very far. Again, this was a long time ago, and I’m not sure how I stumbled along that knowledge. Airport Starbucks are like this too when they’re closed. Anyways, there was this cafe in the engineering hall that had a lot of food locked beneath one of these metal lattice refrigerated enclosures when the cafe was closed. Frequently, I would bring a bag and empty out everything they had in that cafe. Things like salads and sandwiches. Sometimes those fruit drinks that pretend not to be sugar milkshakes. Then I would bring the bag back to my house and share my bounty with my roommates. All six of them. During college, I would frequently share y bounty with my roommates. By this point, stealing was a sport to me. So one time, I have my hand in this “locked” storage space at this closed cafe and I see this third-rate security guard walking by. He might have been campus police. I see him outside the entrance to the hall. The cafe is located at the entrance of the engineering hall. In plain view from outside since all the walls are glass. I see the security guard at the entrance and I see that he sees me and recognizes that I’m stealing. Immediately I pull my hand out of the refrigerated unit, take what I’ve already put in my bag, and run away through an alternate exit. I run and don’t look back. To the best of my recollection, the guy ran after me. He was overweight and dressed in cumbersome clothes. At that time, I was in excellent cardiovascular shape. He had zero chance of catching me, especially with my headstart. I left that hall and went into another building where I ate one of the salads I stole in peace. I must have been quite hungry. It wasn’t as scary as it might sound. I was completely sure that the security guard had no chance of apprehending me. Or managing to successfully chase me down and find me at the spot I chose to stop and eat a salad. It was probably one of their fake-seafood salads which I thoroughly enjoyed. This was another lesson to me in the vast difference between apprehension and getting caught for real.
I: Jesus, that sounds exhilarating. I can understand how the thrill of escape could be attractive.
T: Yes, it must be obvious, but to me, stealing was not only tremendously helpful but also quite fun.
I: I have a question, but first, college seems like a ripe time for a thief to hone their skill. College students are typically fit, unbothered by risk, and don’t have extra money. Can you tell me some of the most vivid stealing memories you have from that time? Besides, of course, the previous episodes.
T: Sure. One thing that I’ll always remember is stealing from a long-haul truck that would unload in front of one of the dining halls. I would notice this truck left its cab open while the driver unloaded stuff inside the hall when the cab was open. One day, I’m walking home. It must have been about 9 in the morning, and I see the truck open and the driver unloading a bunch of food into the dorm with a moving dolly. When the driver went into the dorm, I calmly but quickly step up into the cab and look around. There’s a bunch of stuff. Lots of food, but what catches my eye is the alcohol and the cartons of cigarettes. I’d never been so close to so many cigarettes in my life. Crates upon crates of cigarette cartons. I’m not sure how many packs are in each carton. A lot. Quickly, I take three cartons of Marlboro Reds. The most that I can fit into my backpack, calmly step down from the cab, and leave. No one suspects me of what I had just done, and I continue my walk back home. Sometimes I think people are really dumb, and things like that are why. Dumb, or just scared to point out an obvious thief like me.
The reason I chose cigarettes wasn’t that I smoke. I’ve had one puff in my life, aside from spliffs which I enjoy infrequently. I chose cigarettes because some of my roommates like to smoke, and I thought it would be fun to get them hopelessly addicted to nicotine. When I got home, I immediately told everyone that the three cartons of Marlboro Reds were for everyone. Two of my six roommates were the main beneficiaries of this. Those cartons probably did propel them into a full-blown nicotine addiction. They lasted a couple of months probably. That was the only time I looted a delivery truck.
Another thing I remember from that time was sneaking into a dining hall to get a free all-you-can-eat meal. One of the two dining halls had an outdoor eating area. It was pretty secure, but there’s usually a place to gain entrance to most outdoor dining establishments if you have determination, patience, and the physical strength and dexterity to climb fences and walls. I had all of those things.
Of course, the entire outdoor eating area was bordered by walls, most of which were seven-foot iron bars. Those were scalable, but not without being an easy mark to the workers inside who could look through walls that were entirely glass. However, there was a section outdoors for bands to set up and play. There was also an outdoor barbecue I believe. This section of the outdoor dining area was bordered by a shorter cement wall topped with brick. To go along with the shorter, wider fence, there was a stage that was basically a three-foot rectangular prism of concrete. It was great for landing after I climbed the wall. Amazingly, this section of the eating area was mostly hidden from the staff inside. Now, there were a few sightlines that I had to monitor, but it was extremely rare for a staff member to catch me climbing that fence. The real concern was other students eating outside. Specifically, Residential Advisors. The people whose job it was to govern the dorm that they lived in. People who did that job were people who didn’t look kindly on ne’er-do-well young men cheating the system to get a free meal. This is where patience came in. I would wait for a moment to quickly climb the wall. Preferably one that had the outdoor eating area empty, but barring that, a time where the RA’s or uppity-looking students were inside getting their food.
I: Can you tell me about the instances of doing that which led to getting caught?
T: Of course. Before I share those, I should point out that I would climb the wall even when there were some students eating. Some, never a lot. And with students that look too meek to say anything at a delinquent like me climbing a wall to enter the dining hall. When I did that, I always walked to the entrance door without making eye contact with the diners. Eye contact was something that emboldened people. When I got inside, I would sit at a remote table and just wait and watch everybody. Wait, and make sure that no one was looking for a trespasser, or moving frantically because they were told that some psycho had scaled the outdoor wall and gotten inside for free. If that happened, I was mentally ready to leave through the nearest emergency exit and cause alarms to go off just to escape as quickly as possible.
Now, there might be some instances of me getting caught there that I forgot, but the one I remember most clearly was when I infiltrated the commons before dinner time was scheduled to start. So when I came through the entrance door, one of the student staff supervisors told me that diners weren’t allowed in yet. To the best of my memory, she didn’t suspect me of trespassing. She just felt surprised and befuddled that a non-employee would be there at that time because there was an entrance, and a student cashier whose job it was to let people in when the clock struck 4:30. That, and to make sure that diners either scanned their dining plan card or paid twenty dollars. When the student supervisor told me that dinner hadn’t started yet, I just walked out and didn’t return. Nothing happened besides that.
I vaguely remember a student confronting me about climbing that fence. A student eating outside. My recollection of that isn’t as sharp, but I’m pretty sure that it happened, and that it led to me climbing the same wall to get out of there.
I: So there was never any serious trouble that you got in from trespassing into that dining hall?
T: No, never.
I: Did you go to that dining hall for your entire time in college?
T: Actually, towards the end of college I started to like cooking, and I stole a lot of groceries, so eating the lower-quality food at the dining hall became less beneficial. Although I probably had a craving for unlimited ice cream and desserts periodically.
I: Did you ever plan to stop stealing one day?
T: I did. Although never with any real gumption. After college, I had negative money so it was almost essential that I stole. Definitely, if I wanted to eat the food that improved quality of life, or if I didn’t want to climb further into credit card debt. I guess I kept moving the proverbial goalposts, which is something I still do I guess. Although now I think about it a little bit differently.
I: How so?
T: Now I admit the truth, or my honest feelings about it all. It’s like the ending of Breaking Bad where Walt admits to Skylar after she finds out about the excessive amount of cash that he has in the storage unit. About how he was still in the blue game because he liked it. How it made him feel alive. That’s a little bit dramatic, but my sentiment is similar. Don’t get me wrong, I probably still can’t comfortably afford to pay for the high-quality foodstuff that I get still get for free. Blueberries are stupid expensive. Especially the organic ones. There’s a reason why developing countries don’t have them. But I don’t need to be stealing, just like Walt didn’t need to keep cooking. To me, stealing has turned into a sort of game that’s fun. Like an easy, low-stakes heist. Heist movies are popular. They’re popular because most people, when they’re being honest with themselves, have a desire to steal. Especially from a faceless, corporate conglomeration, or a ruthless casino. I enjoy the act of blending in with the other, innocent shoppers. I enjoy the tiny thrill of slowly, calmly, walking out of a store with unpaid goods. I like having things, and food, that is of a higher quality than I can afford.
I: Is there anything else regarding your attitude towards stealing that has changed over the years?
T: Actually, yeah, there is. I grew up on Harry Potter. In my mind, stealing as much as I did was comparable to Lord Voldemort breaking up his soul into seven Horcruxes so that he could live forever. I felt like I was breaking my soul to gain something. Like I was changing myself into someone unfit for polite society in order to increase my quality of life. I remember this moment from a psychology class in high school where the teacher had everybody write down something on a piece of paper that detailed what they would do if there were no consequences. I can’t be sure if that was exactly the specification, but it was something like that. The teacher would then ask the class if that act was “social” or “antisocial”. Again, this is from my memory, so it’s surely not completely accurate. But I’m sure that what I wrote down was that I would swim in the local river naked. Besides the majority of the class hypothesizing that it was me who wrote that, they all wholeheartedly agreed that this was antisocial behavior. That’s something that’s stuck in my mind, and something I thought about when I reflected on my stealing.
I: That’s interesting. I love hearing what sticks with people. For me, I’ll never forget one of my high school friend’s sisters saying, “all women are sluts, and all guys are assholes”. Some things stick in people’s minds. But that didn’t stop you from stealing?
T: No, it didn’t.
I: Do you ever see yourself stopping?
T: Not in America. If I move to Europe, I would still do it, just to a much smaller degree. Like, a couple of exorbitant foodstuffs, but not two-hundred dollars worth of food. America is a lawless country. That’s something I identified after traveling abroad.
I: Was there anything specific that made you change your idea that you’d one day stop stealing?
T: Probably the fact that a beautiful, smart woman fell in love with me, and made it possible for me to accept myself and honestly break down the pros and cons of my stealing. A beautiful, smart woman who makes me feel like I never have to try and be anything other than my authentic self. Who makes me unapologetic for being honest and forthcoming. The money I save is serious and can be allocated to other things. It’s like how rich people justify avoiding taxes. The money is better used by them than by the wasteful government. The enjoyment I get from pulling off a successful heist is real. I don’t think I’ll ever talk freely about it. The fact that I don’t steal from small businesses, gives me some kind of personal pardon. It will always be one of those things that you need to earn my trust to hear about. But at this point, what I have is a skill. A skill that I can use to win the game we call life, which is a game I play to win.
I: Has there ever been anyone who made you feel like stealing wasn’t so taboo?
T: Definitely not anyone in my family. Interesting question though! Actually, there is. One of my favorite books of all time is The Time Traveller’s Wife. The protagonist has to learn how to steal and describes it as one of the key things to learn in life. I love that book, and that author and that little tidbit made me love it that much more. When I read that, I knew it was a literary party. The fact that it’s such a spellbinding book probably contributed to the fact that I took it as a reason to not think of myself as some kind of soulless monster.
I: Do you think all of the stealing you’ve done has changed you?
T: Maybe. Probably. I’d say yes, but I can’t be sure. I think that it’s given me an opportunity to listen to other people’s body language and be sensitive to it. Allowed me to practice blending into a crowd. To practice moving quietly, and to listen intently to my surroundings. I think it’s made me better able to handle pressure situations, but also on the flip-side, I think my sense of danger might have been eroded. That, or my respect for authority.
I: This has all been captivating, and I’ve enjoyed this very much. I do have one last question that piques my curiosity. Now, do you see any scenario that would make you stop stealing? I’m just curious.
T: Besides moving to Europe? Maybe having a kid and to start thinking that I would somehow be negatively influencing them. More likely though, I’d just teach them how important it is to say nothing to law enforcement, and that it’s always possible to just drop everything and calmly walk away. Preferably with different clothes on.
I: Thank you for this. I thoroughly enjoyed it.
T: Yeah, this has been fun. Thank you.