When I was 8 years old, I stole a granola bar from the grocery store. They were in a large bin and looked tasty, so I grabbed one and smuggled it out of the store in my underpants. I was a poor thief though, squirming and squiggling enough on the way home that my mom busted me. I was scolded, but we didn’t bother to return the bar because it was a cheap purchase and didn’t seem worth it. Also, it had been in a grade-schooler’s underpants. That definitely marked it not for resell. The worst thing, besides feeling incompetent for being caught and smashing all previous records on my personal guilt meter, was that the granola bar tasted like ass. I don’t think this had anything to do with my underpants. If you’re going to steal food, steal something tasty.
While I can blame my food thievery on my youth, I was surprised to read that meat was the most shoplifted item in American grocery stores in 2005, or so says the Food Marketing Institute. Not only that, but “aspirational meatlifters are most likely to be gainfully employed women between 35 and 54.” Considering that describes a lot of this blog’s audience, I have to wonder, have any of you stolen meat?
The “gainfully employed” part of that sentence surprised me, because I could somewhat excuse a poor mother of eight from padding her bra with hamburger patties. I saw Les Miserables and sometimes you’ve just got to steal that loaf of bread, even if it means an obsessive-compulsive cop will relentlessly pursue you for the rest of your life while singing about fate written in the stars. But if you have a job, it seems a little less excusable to be stuffing a honey-baked ham in your oversized purse. I would also be concerned about getting pork blood all over my pocketbook if the saran wrap wasn’t properly secured or got poked by one of my pens.