You didn’t think I was REALLY going to stay gone, did you? That would be insane. This blog is the only thing (some days) that connects me with the world outside of my pill-popping (what? Prenatal vitamins are pills!) suburban existence. No matter what the stupid platitudes say, I firmly believe that laughter–and vodka–are the very best medicine.
That said, I will probably not be around as much as I’ve been before. With all of the fantastic blogs out there, I’ve been having a terrible time mixing reading blogs and living, well, life in general. But alas, you wanted the best, you sadly were booby prized your Aunt Becky. Life goes on, eh?
Back when I was in my early teens, in retelling it later, I sound like a complete bad ass. I wasn’t, not really, but it sounds that way.
Take, for example, the time I was arrested at age 14. SOUNDS bad ass until I tell you the story. Which, like it or not, I’m about to do.
So, my friend Jenny and I were wandering about the mall (where else did teenagers hang?) in a sea of hormonal, well, hormones, and she came up with this brilliant idea. It went a little like this:
Jen: Hey, Becky, we should steal something.
Becky: I don’t think so. I HAVE money to pay for it.
Jen: But it would be cool! Come on!
Becky: No thanks.
Jen: COME ON!
Becky: (sighs) Okay.
Did you see that? My IRON CLAD will in action? Even then I was aware of how stupid the whole situation was. Being born with a healthy fear of The Man, I was never one to try and disobey authority. Any bad-assery I engaged in happened AROUND blatantly breaking the law.
But, in an effort to give my future self stuff to blog about and make fun of, I acted precisely how those spineless chicks on the After School Special: I caved immediately.
And so we entered a store–The Limited–for the express purpose of shoplifting something. Even then I knew it was a Very Bad Idea.
I went up to the front of the store to steal some accessories (clothing seemed like a lot of work) with Jenny in tow. We were the only people in the store besides the employees. Without having an ounce of smooveness in me, I’m sure I had a blinking sign over my head that said “TEENAGER SHOPLIFTING!”
I guarantee you that I looked guilty before I put a hair pick in my pocket.
Without surprising a single person, the clerk caught me as I tried to walk out of the store. Bus-TED.
And since it was store policy to arrest shoplifters, I was also arrested. I was also a blubbery mess from the moment I was busted. It wasn’t even MY idea, and here I was taking the blame for it! I learned REALLY QUICKLY never to listen to anyone else when it came to my business.
Well, because I was 14 and unable to drive, my mother was in the mall with me, and despite being paged over and over, we hadn’t seen her. On our way to the police station, we ran into my mother who was obviously furious. She knew I had money and she couldn’t believe that I’d tried such an amateur move.
Neither could I.
I was tried and sentenced to 25 hours community service, which I served at a local Red Cross. I painted rooms and I cleaned toilets (it was then that I learned about the inability of men to actually make the pee hit the toilet) for 4 weekends in a row.
I wish I could sit here and like an episode of Full House, have a “tender moment” with which I can share my wisdom and all that I learned from this harrowing experience, but I’m not that kind of person. And this isn’t that kind of blog.
So for now, ladies and germs, I tell you only this: don’t get caught.