TRUE LIFE: I'M A KLEPTO

In keeping with my new dedication to disclosure, I have decided to share with you a recent contretemps that has me questioning my sanity. This is the story of how in one day i transferred from law-abiding tax paying citizen, to doyenne of deceit and reluctant renegade.

In common parlance - a crook.

My saga begins innocently enough. I was in target (my addiction) browsing the aisles. Target and I have an interesting relationship. Its one way. I give and give and give. (my money.) It takes and takes and takes. (my money.) Target is the emotionally distant boyfriend that I should drop, but i keep coming back because maybe this time...

On most occasions when i go, I have no purpose. There is no pressing need that must be filled, or even a want to be indulged. I just like being there. People go to parks and libraries and to the gym to think and meditate - I go to Target. The waxed floors, complete with shopping cart wheel streaks, the unflattering fluorescent lighting. The splashes of red. (i'm sure it has a psychological effect) The smell of Starbucks intermingled with that of leather-"like" goods...all a delightful assault on my senses. Shoot. I'm getting a jones now. To me, target is the equivalent of what cheers was to Norm. The retail counterpart of your favorite local bar. And though they don't know my name (yet) - i'm sure they recognize my face.

I had decided to NOT get a shopping cart this day. Shopping carts spell doom when i am in target. I wind up filling it up with nonsense, and by the time i'm at the checkout counter, i have run up a tab of over a hundred dollars. Consistently. And now that we are in a recession, i can't just be doing that. Gotta make every dollar count.

So, I enter the store thinking about all and sundry. I quickly avert my eyes when i pass by the dollar section. I refused to be enticed by the thrill of buying cheap wares just because they are only a dollar. I have no cart. No basket. Plenty of self control. The women's section beckons me and i go over to see what's poppin. Target is great for making the perfect high-low wardrobe. target t-shirt, tsubi jeans. It works.

I see that Thakoon is the new featured designer (and one of my favorites for his higher end clothing) so i check for his stuff. Nice. I pick up a sleeveless sweater. Perfect for transitioning from winter to spring - whenever that comes (yucky snow outside) I fold it over my arm, and continue to browse. I pick up a tank top (6 dollars!) and saunter over to the underwear section. As much as i like the idea of sexy alluring underwear, it really not my type of hype. Cotton is my preferred fabric. Simple, forgiving and comfortable. They have some cute boy shorts on sale so i pick some up. I hold them in my hand.

Next stop is the magazine section. Nothing much interested me, but then i spot the new issue of Marie Claire - and a lead for an article which promises to give hints on how to achieve my best look EVER. Um hello! After seeing myself in the mirror that morning, i know i need all the help i can get. The magazine must be mine. I pick that up and continue on making my circuit.

My hands are kind of full now, but not awkwardly so, so instead of heading to the register, i decide to make one last stop in the health and beauty section. My achilles. Oh baby. There is something about beauty products that I can't resist. There's the possibility of beauty and wealth and happily ever after in every bottle, jar and tube. The more attractive the packaging the more likely i am to buy it. I do quite well until I reach the burts bees section. Lotions and creams and oils...oh my. I pick up a new body lotion that promises to enhance my skin tone. Sweet. I am totally buying this dream.

Finally i head over to makeup, another sad indulgence of mine. Expensive - bobbi brown, nars - or cheap - wet n wild (best liners IMO) and nyc. I LOVE it all and i will spend a grip. The funny thing is, as much as i love make up (repping bare escentuals to the fullest) i don't wear much. I buy stuff and it just sits. I'm especially guilty with eye shadow. I always feel clownish. The same with lipstick. I'll buy a color and never wear it. I always revert back to a nude OR my old standby vaseline. Or if i want to get fancy, Rosebud salve. However i did discover navy blue shadow and i think i will stick with that for a minute. It makes my eyes really pop. This may be make up i actually wear. Other than my bare escentuals (gotta rep them again)

Hovering over the l'oreal section I see that they have finally restocked one of my favorite lipglosses - Colour Riche in soft nude. I have to buy this. The last few times i've been to target they haven't had it, and i must get while the getting is good.

My items, while not huge or bulky are becoming unwieldy. I better check out now. I get in line, and when there is finally room, i put my stuff on the belt. The cashier begins scanning my items and i watch as each article beeps as its bar code slides over the laser beam.

She's done scanning and gives me my total.

But wait.

Where's the...

I look for the tube of lipgloss i had picked up a few minutes earlier.

Its not on the belt. I look around me on the floor. Its not there either.

"What's the matter?" The cashier, in a rare display of concern for the customer looked at me.

"Nothing..." I say feeling confused. I could have sworn i picked it up. I mean i saw myself do it. Walking backwards in my mind (a sesame street-ism) i quickly reconstructed my actions up until that point. But all i could remember was picking up the lip gloss and then - a total blank. I looked back up at the cashier.

"I just thought..." I trailed off.

The line behind me had gotten long. Homegirl behind me was looking antsy too. "Nevermind." I must have thought i picked it up. Only explanation. I slid my card through the debit/credit card thingie to conclude the transaction, Got my receipt, and walked out of the store promptly forgetting about the missing tube of lip gloss. I didn't need it anyway. I have so many glosses that i could use in its place. Not to mention, it would have taken me over the 50 dollar mark, and my goal was to stay under it.

Later on that evening i had to run back out, so i threw back on my corduroy blazer from earlier that day. I didn't feel like carrying my pocket book, so i put my wallet in my left jacket pocket and...

I felt a slim rectangular shaped piece of hard plastic.

Oh no.

My finger reached in even as my eyes involuntarily closed. I was suddenly uneasy.

Don't tell me.

I pulled out the item and peered at it with one eye.

L'oreal Colour Riche Lipgloss Number 508 - Soft Nude.

No. Freakin. Way.

NO. FREAKIN. WAY.

I stared at it - equal parts confused AND amused. How in the world? When looking for it, i had checked everywhere except for my person. Why didn't I check my pockets? Oh that's right, because i'm not used to living a life of crime. My confusion suddenly gave way to fear. Deliberate or not, I had stolen. I, a person who will walk back to the department store to return a pen that i used to sign my credit card receipt, had walked out of a store without purchasing an item.

I was horrified.

In the distance i heard sirens. (probably rushing off to a accident but i swore they were for me.) I expected the swat team to descend upon me at any moment. In the far off corners of my mind i could hear the chant: "attica! attica!"

I felt woosy.

Even though i had no recollection of doing so, I must have absentmindedly put it in my pocket when walking to the cashier. My hands were full, and the smallest item was put "up" to make room for the bulkier ones. But still, don't they have cameras everywhere? How in the world could i put it in my pocket and not a single sales associate or security guard say something to me? I then began question my own sanity. Like how absentminded was i being to commit petty theft and not even know it? Is this how it begins? Am i destined to be one of those old ladies with a hefty bosom and rolled down stocking and comfortable shoes that steals batteries for my remote control so i can flip back and forth between my stories???

I had to return the item. But how? I mean i guess it would be easy enough to walk to customer service and tell them i accidently walked out without paying for the item - and offer to pay for it, but then what? And what if they decide to arrest me? I'd be locked up and all this sexy is too much for prison. Some manly chick would try to wife me up and...

Well enough of that.

Sleep that night was a restless one. How do career criminals do it? I accidently walk out of the store with six dollar lipgloss and I'm all jumpy. I had replaced it in my jacket, and like edgar allen poe's tell tale heart, my tell tale tube thumped thumped thumped, its unrelenting bassline disturbing my slumber. I was as guilty as lady Macbeth, but without all the cool dialogue.

The next morning i was on a mission. I was going to return this lipgloss.

In a supreme act of cowardice, decide to avoid any nasty confrontation and quietly put back the item. As i walked in i expected alarms and strobelights to go off, but, nothing. The security guard gave me a head nod even. I headed straight toward the l'oreal section. Pulling it out, i replaced it on the shelf with its brothers and sisters. No harm no foul right? My heart beat was accelerated. I expected the cuffs to come slamming down on me at any minute. This was the first time in EVER that i had walked into a target and had no desire to shop. I just wanted to get out of there.

My body was damp by the time I exited the store. I was relieved that the moment of truth had passed without incident. Relieved...and strangely thrilled. Now that i was in the clear i could relax. Even laugh a little. I had successfully pulled off a caper! I would have a story for my grand children and with a little embellisment (guard dogs, the fibbies, and a possible hostage situation) I'll go down in history as the coolest grandmother ever.

...Of course there is not the issue of my latent kleptomania, but one hurdle at a time.

John Beltran - Felicidad Nova (i'm still dreaming of summer)