The Break In

I haven't ever been robbed, but once when I was at the STORE further south, we did have a break-in. Parts of the break-in were really masterfully done, and parts of it were just baffling. The way the store was set up he broke into an area below an etagere, and it wasn't on camera. It didn't even fully set off the alarms. He snuck in through the floor level glass pane and managed to stay off camera the whole time. He broke in near DVDs, and we thought he was probably aiming to steal them, only to be foiled by the fact that we take them out of the cases and store them separately.

So, unable to steal DVDs he chooses the next best thing. And by next best I mean have you guys ever smelled a Basix dildo? I've said it before, but I'll say it again, if your toy smells, it should not be going inside you. Basix not only smell terrible, they sweat this awful greasy chemical sweat. This would-be thief decided he needed a backpack full of exclusively Basix dildos. Big 10" ones. And several bottles of Anal-eaze. For those that don't know, that's a powerful anesthetic, you can put anything up your butt that you want, and oh my goodness will you regret it the next day because it doesn't stop your muscles from tearing under unexpected strain.

So he crams his bag full of the two worst possible choices in the store, all the while managing to avoid cameras. Then he exits the store. It seems he tripped the alarm on his way out. They found him a few blocks away, running, Basix dildos flying from his backpack as he ran. They arrested him, and he sobbingly confessed, "I stole all the dongs!" When relating this story recently I added that it could have been a brilliant break-in. He could have taken one or two expensive toys, and walked into the nearby coffee shop to sit calmly for an hour or two before busing away. That probably would have been easier to accomplish if he hadn't been on hard drugs. Still. Running away while dildos fly out of your bag is rather a giveaway, don't you  think?

The Polaroid Prank

When I was in high school my friend group and I had a close relationship with our German teacher. We loved him to death. We'd spend optional periods in his classroom hanging out and joking with him. We'd also tease him mercilessly about his in depth power point presentations. At one point he got a Chinese yoyo that said "Sprach auf Deutsch" (Speak in German). He'd bop people on the face with it when they were speaking English in class.

At one point, I was speaking German but it was while he was talking. He bopped me with the paper toy, "Pass auf!" (Pay attention) and I became mortally offended. I really hate when things touch my face, which is a weird hang up but as soon as it happened I fell still and was instantly filled with quiet wrath. I would destroy the toy, but I could bide my time.

It so happened that a few days later I got my chance. Our classroom was facing the blackboard and Herr Antley was writing. He turned to explain something then set the yoyo down on the front row of desks. The very front row of desks were empty, there were three or four people in the next and I was in the third row back. But there were no people between me and the yoyo. As soon as he turned his back I was up and over my desk in a flash. Silently I darted over the second row, stretched forward and snatched the yoyo.

 I was absolutely silent and I was seated at my desk as he turned back around. The entire class saw me do this. And no one said a word. He turned back around and looked down where he'd put the yoyo, slightly puzzled. He then brushed it off, thinking he'd misplaced it.

Now, I could have burned the yoyo or thrown it away. But I was a senior and I wanted to do a senior prank. The big class one was a flop and Herr Antley was my favorite teacher. I didn't have a plan but I figured something would turn up. It turned up in the form of a used Polaroid camera in a thrift shop. I saw it and my plan dropped fully formed in my mind. I went out and bought a stack of film for it. This was near the beginning of the year.

I took a Polaroid of the yoyo against the windshield of my car on a rainy day. I made a friend who didn't have him as a teacher write on the bottom, "I've run away. I can no longer agree with your methods. I won't be misused. Regretfully yours." I left the picture in his mailbox, anonymously, a week or two after having stolen it.

He was clearly agitated that day in class. He asked if someone had taken it. We sat in silence and I sweated but to my classmates credit not a single finger pointed at me. The next Polaroid was the yoyo sitting on the seat of Isaac's bike, about two months later. "I've taken up some hobbies. Biking is fun. I still miss you sometimes, but I can't come back." I left it in the CD slot of his Mac, sticking out obviously.

He started tacking up the Polaroids, keeping them on his cork board. I sent a few, one every couple months. One was the yoyo and Kat (she went to a different school, I was covering my tracks), "I found a date to prom. I think I'm finally fitting in!" There were a few others. Each one was delivered differently and anonymously.

Our school has a tradition for graduation where all the teachers form double rows to make a column and hold out yardsticks to make a tunnel. It lets out at the buses that carry us away for the graduation ceremony. You stop and bid your favorite teachers goodbye. I decided to return the yoyo then. As we were walking down the column I stopped in front of Herr Antley. I smiled sweetly, pulled out the yoyo, and bopped him on the nose.

 "Du?! Es war du?!" (You?! It was you?!") He told me he thought it was Nick and Ted, our resident troublemakers. I gave the yoyo back and we hugged.

A few of my friends were the year below me. They told me Herr Antley still has the Polaroids up and delights in telling people about it.

Safe Sex DVD

I have now met the worst human.

He came in this morning, livid. There was no ramp up as I told him no, he came in spitting mad. He thumped his black bag on the counter and said, "I want credit back for this. She said it was the best, but it's not!" I kept a calm polite demeanor, feeling slightly ridiculous having to deal with this dressed as a pirate. I asked what it was. He angrily ripped a DVD from its black bag, with a receipt. "I'm sorry, personal products like that are final sale, we-" "I didn't pay this amount of money for a safe sex DVD!" I blinked at him, "I'm sorry sir, but that DVD is pornographic-" "This packaging is totally misleading! Look at it!" I held back the response that I've seen it plenty of times. It was a Wicked Pictures movie, which is a full length film with a plot, and "acting" but it was certainly X rated. On the cover Jessica Drake wound herself around a beefy guy. I looked back at him. I was confused, it was very clearly porn, and not an instructional, I didn't know what was making him say it was a safe sex DVD.

Our receipts clearly state that all personal products are final sale. "Sir, I'm very sorry, but we can't take returns on movies, they're personal product-" "Everything in here could be considered personal product!" I looked at him, refraining from saying that, yes, that's the point. I tried a different tactic,  "You can see on your receipt your cashier circled that specifically." He exploded, "Oh cause she circled it?! That doesn't mean she said it to me! She could have been saying anything as she circled it! I'm 67, you think I get sprung watching a safe sex DVD?! I don't! I shop here all the time!" My mouth curled a little at that. I was thinking his problem more likely lay with his age than the porn.  Not to mention with the frequency I'm at the store, having never seen him, I have reason to doubt he was a frequent shopper.

But then it dawns on me what his complaint is. "Sir, are you upset that the actors wore condoms?" "Yes!" I stood there for a moment, just confused. It's not like they take time to show the actors putting a condom on, it just cuts to explicit content, and it's on. The only difference is a slight sheen. The knowledge that they're protecting their bodies is something that would disturb very few people. They even take it off for money shots. "I'm sorry, every Wicked movie does that, they believe in the stars being protected-" "That's not something I would ever pay to see!" At this point I set down a firm no. He stood there and yelled at me for five minutes while I stood with a polite look of concern on my face, and he left me with the satisfaction that he had to keep the porn that was so abhorrent to him. He can take that shit to corporate for all I care, I refuse to reward someone for thinking sexual health is a turn off.