I Was A Teenage Gum Thief

Tam, at youth group.


A few weeks ago, I stopped off at Giant Eagle to get a chicken for dinner. Much like my mother, when I stop at the store for only one thing, I end up with a cart full. The chicken was a cooked rotisserie; therefore I picked it up last so it would still be warm when I got home. I didn’t have room inside my cart, so I stuck it in the bottom where small children go. It wasn’t until I was out at my car, unloading, that I realized I never took out the chicken to pay for it. I had forgotten all about it and the cashier hadn’t noticed either. Not only was I nervous about my Karma, but it reminded me of a traumatic experience when I was a child.

At the tender age of 13, I was pretty awkward. It was the year I decided to give myself a haircut, which ended up being every hair but two. I looked more like a boy than my brother. It was the year I still hadn’t grown into my body by a long shot…and I looked more like an apple than an hourglass. And it was the year that I was taken away from a store in handcuffs.

Yes, that little girl that went to youth group every week, that goody-goody blonde who still played with her Cabbage Patch Doll was arrested for shoplifting. All I can say is, the devil had nothing to do with it.

My friend Shelly and I were dropped off by my mother at this Kmart-like store in Corry, PA. I’m not sure if we were there to shop more than there to pass the time away. Because, really? What is there to do in Corry? I convinced Shelly that it would be really fun to try and get away with shoplifting something. I must have seen it on primetime television. There was everything from makeup to movies in this store, so we decided on the obvious: a pack of Bubbalicious’ Banana Berry Split gum. I also threw in a pack of those capsules that blow up into animal shapes when put into water, for good measure. We were suspiciously being followed by a store monitor. Being in Corry, I thought the lady was just looking for a good time and decided IT was a good time to leave the store, gum in pockets. Besides, I knew my mother would be back soon to pick us up.

As we went through the first set of doors to the area where all the vending machines are, I noticed the store pedophile following us and I was pretty nervous at that point, realizing she might not have been interested in us for pleasure.

”Can you girls come back into the store with me?”

I know its strange but the first fear that crossed my mind wasn’t my permanent record or the embarrassment of having to walk back through the store with everyone’s eyes on us. It was the fact that my mother was going to find out and how many bruises I would receive.

This robust woman, to say the least, led us back to her dark dusty office to interrogate. In my 13 year old opinion, she was a little rusty. She called the Corry Police Station and their single police officer was on his way over. She then proceeded to try and scare us into telling her all our secrets. Her desk lamp pointed right at my face, she asked me if I had ever done anything like this before. I thought back to my desk drawer full of stolen office supplies and empty candy wrappers…twenties from my dad’s wallet and a few magazines with Mark Paul Gossaler on the front. “No, of course not.” She then commented on how pleased she was that she nabbed a “two for one” deal. She showed us a chart on the wall displaying how many people she had caught and if she filled up all the boxes, she’d win some sort of prize…a tour of State Prison or a meeting with the Mayor of Corry. I don’t really recall all the details. She was quite impressive though.

Across the table, Shelly seemed to have the I’m-in-such-deep-shit look. I just kept trying to give her the It-will-be-alright look. Although every time she looked at me, her face changed to you-are-so-not-my-best-friend look.

Finally the policeman showed up. I think my first attraction to cops can be brought back to this day. He was younger, slim, and pushed me around a little. He read us our rights and handcuffed us before leading us through the store.

By this time, my mother had shown up and put out an all points bulletin for us when we weren’t out front waiting for her. When she finally DID see us coming through the store with the police officer, she had a look of fear, almost as if she thought something wrong had happened to us and not that we had DONE something wrong. Moms are so like that! Then I think she realized the cuffs and her face changed from fear to fury. I thought she would grab a nearby wire hanger and beat me right there. Eerily calm, she asked the policeman where he was taking us and he told her. She said she would follow, as if we were in a funeral procession. Well come to think of it…we almost were.

On the way there, the cop was staring at us the whole time in his rear view mirror. We were to have our hands on the cage in the back at all times. I started to reach into my purse for lip balm and he sternly yelled it was unacceptable and to get my hands back up on the cage where he could see them. I don’t quite remember, but I think I did it on purpose just to be naughty. I couldn’t help but giggle inside about how ridiculous it all was. The only person that scared me was in the car behind us and I was so glad that he didn’t release us into her custody until she had time to cool off.

At the station, we were promised if we never did this again, personally apologized to the manager and did 20 hours community service, our record would be free and clear. I left with my mother, who had called Shelly’s parents (whom weren’t too fond of me to begin with) and that’s when the real punishment started.

That week, my mom came up with every consequence imaginable, from beatings to telling strangers on the street what I had done. It was a life lesson. I’ve never stolen a single thing since...on purpose.

I might add, a few years later for my 16th birthday my best friend (again) Shelly bought me an industrial sized box of Banana Berry Split gum and a pack of the capsules that blow up in water. Even my mother was amused.