Shoplifting

Working in a store, any store, means you become acquainted with the little smarties who think they can evade security cameras or the ever watchful eye of salesclerks (like me, for instance). I'm not saying it can't be done, but you have to admit that sometimes shoplifters can underestimate the capacity of department store security.
Like ours.

Sure, I know it has flaws. I even know all the dead angles and the places where it's really easy to lift things without being seen, whether by a salesclerk or by a camera (I won't be telling you, in case it gives you ideas). I can easily fathom a few ways people could steal things; department stores aren't like casinos or anything.

But still, most shoplifters are under the age of 18, and so they misestimate many things.

I was near the cash tonight, doing my work (half-assedly, as I need to look busy for my boss, but there were so few people that really, there was nothing to do) and chatting with Hoo (another cashier) and Karl (the guy from the Sports and Toys department--he's entering my college in two weeks) when suddenly I see Evin, the security guy who was on watch tonight, run out of the offices (between Children's and Sports&Toys) and out of sight.

I should mention, of course, that Evin not only looks great, in that brush-cut-dark-hair-bright-eyes-gorgeous-smile way, he's also funny and cheerful, and very professional if necessary. And he speaks English AND French without an accent in either, like me. I told this to Mom, and she said, "Well, what are you waiting for? Snatch him!" To which I replied, "But he's from security, Mom, it's not that easy. I hardly see him; we just say hi and bye."

Anyway. Back to my story. So he jogs past us, looking harried. He looks nice when he jogs, looking harried. I like that the security people aren't required to wear uniforms like janitors. They're kind of like plainclothes. I shoot Hoo a confused look, because usually he just walks and smiles and says hi on the way. But he didn't this time.

Hoo just shrugs and says, "Maybe something came up." I agree, and Karl remarks that he hopes something fun happens before he dies of boredom.

"Don't get your hopes up. Nothing ever happens in our department," I say to him. "Even Sports and Toys doesn't get stuff stolen. I mean, I can hardly imagine people lifting exercisers and bicycles so subtly that nobody notices."

Karl nods in agreement, looking nevertheless quite disinheartened.

Hoo agrees as well. "Yes, mostly people try to steal wallets, perfume bottles or jewellery from downstairs."

So we hang around again. Customers come in waves, so often Hoo and I have to deal with a few customers at the same time between periods of boredom.

We were coping with one such wave of customers when Evin comes jogging up to our cash counter. Circling it, he passes behind me and shoots me a brief smile ―checks my screen to see if I am in the middle of a long transaction, which I was― then heads over to Hoo's computer and says, cutting in very seriously, "I need to check something."

Taken short, Hoo cancels her transaction and lets him check the price of a small perfume bottle. With a glance I can tell it's one of those expensive women's bottles from downstairs, the kind that costs like, eighty dollars.

Looking grim, Evin lets Hoo have the cash again, and he jogs out from behind the counter and back towards the offices.

Karl comes up when the customers have trickled away and asks, "What's up with Evin? He doesn't normally look that serious."

I shake my head. "I don't know. I think somebody tried to steal that bottle."

Hoo nods. "Yes, you know what I think?" Karl and I look at her curiously. She's been in much longer than the both of us, so she would know. "A girl tried to steal that bottle and got caught."

"How do you know it's a girl?" Karl asks, sensibly enough, I guess.

"Who else would steal a bottle of women's perfume? A transvestite?"

Karl and I grin. "Cute, Hoo. Cute."

Another few minutes pass, when suddenly a tall, broad woman ―attractive but strict-looking― followed by a much smaller but muscled man show up at our counter. Karl and I had been talking about the fact that I hit my butt against a counter and got a funky bruise on my ass for it ―Karl: "So is the bruise more greenish or more yellowish?" Me: "Oh, it's kind of like a crazy mix of purple, green and yellow." Karl: "I hate when that happens to me. I always hit myself on stuff."― when Hoo asks the lady what she can do to help her.

The woman looks at Hoo and says, "I was told to talk to Evin. Could you please dial?"

I look at her and wonder if she's Evin's mother, consider that she looks a little too young and not at all like him, and wonder just what is going on. Is she, I think with false panic, the mother of his girlfriend?

Hoo nods and calls security. "Hello? Evin? Yes, there's a Mrs...?"

"Mrs. C.," the woman completes.

"A Mrs. C. to see you. Yes. Alright." Hoo hangs up and turns to the woman and her husband. "He'll be right here."

And Karl and I watch as Evin comes out again, and smiles politely at Mrs. C. and her husband, then shakes their hands. He has a really nice smile.

"Mrs. C. Mr. C. Good evening, my name is Evin. Please follow me."

And they disappear and we don't see him, or the C.s, again for another hour.

At one point Karl, who is near the doors, comes up to my counter ―where I was boredly penning a few words for FG― and says, "Guess what? There's a police car in front of the store!"

It doesn't take much to excite Karl. He is usually entertained by a few simple things, like the stories of my romantic failures, which I don't mind telling him all about because I know he can do nothing about them.

Sarcastically, I say, "Oh whoopee, Karl, are you finally going to turn yourself in for enjoying illicit substances yesterday?"

He glares and replies, in the same tone, "I don't know; I thought they came here to arrest you on report of your bitchiness."

I glare back and say, "They haven't outlawed that yet."

He answers, squinting, "Well, they should. My pot doesn't have the long-lasting effects of your verbal stabs to the heart."

I pretend to be flattered. "Oh, how I wish. You'd have a bleed-out."

He snorts. "Nice one."

"Thank you."

Hoo comes up. "I think those Mr. and Mrs. C. were the girl's parents. Evin just came out."

I glance at Evin's disappearing figure ―and his butt, which looks very nice in faded black jeans―, disappointed. "I also think it was a girl who tried to shoplift," I agree. "You have to admit it kind of sucks, though."

"Well, obviously. That's a juvenile criminal record right there," Karl says.

I roll my eyes and say, "Not because of that. Hoo will understand." I turn to Hoo and say, "I mean, imagine. You try to shoplift and get caught by security. Only instead of seeing some fat, greasy fifty year-old, you see this hunky, gorgeous twenty-three year-old. How can you even hate a security guy that handsome?"

Hoo laughs. "Yes, I suppose you're right."

"I know I'm right," I say, grinning. "It's just like getting naked in front of a really sexy doctor. How embarrassing is that??"

At this, Karl raises a brow and says, in a disgusted voice, "Oh god, end my suffering here, somebody."

I just shoot him a contemptuous smirk. "Oh, Karl, didn't you know? Evin is Apollo made man."

He shrugs. "That's what you said about Slim ―was it Slim?― and that guy the other day who came in to pay his wife's account."

Asshole.

At any rate, after I came off work, I passed by the security offices on the way out and saw two policemen inside Evin's closet-sized office, talking to a crying girl, a few years younger than me... maybe fifteen or sixteen. She was sandwiched between Mr. and Mrs. C. I barely had time to catch Evin's eye before I walked on. It's not healthy to eavesdrop, and besides, I already know everything about what happened, out of pure logic.

Love,
CM

P.S. Worked a little bit on my Twitchy site today. Check it out in the links. If you have suggestions to improve it, don't hesitate to tell me.