I’ve developed a terrible habit of kleptomania when I’m in that perfect state of drunk. I will feel and overwhelming urge to steal something, especially if I have been ‘wronged’. It can be something small and useless (like packs of Ra-men noodles and razor blades from Frat parties), or something large and typically also useless (like construction barrels).
I went to a large holiday party that was being sponsored by an old employer of mine, The Winking Lizard Tavern. They rented out a section of the Cleveland Brown’s stadium and gave away free food and beer to about the 1500 people that were invited.
Since I was kicked out of the Winking Lizard once, I felt the need to steal something. For revenge. So what did I decide to steal??
I decided to steal two bottles of half-used hand soap from the mens bathroom. They are fitting in my sweatshirt very awkwardly, but since I’ve been drinking, I think they are invisible to the untrained eye and that I’m a sexy genius.
We are leaving the stadium, down the large escalator, when I hear someone yell “EXCUSE ME SIR!”
I know they are talking to me, but I ignore it. Then I’m approached by a Cleveland Sheriff. “WHAT DO YOU HAVE IN YOUR POCKET THERE?” demands the sheriff.
Casually, I reply, “Hand Sanitizer.” as if nothing is wrong and I look at the cop like she is crazy. She accepts my answer and begins to walk away, but only about four seconds later, she re approaches me.
“DID YOU TAKE THAT FROM THE BATHROOM SIR?”
“Yes, I need it for my hands. I’m a germaphobe.”
“YOU CAN’T STEAL FROM THE BATHROOM. WE ARE GOING TO RETURN THIS TO THE BATHROOM RIGHT NOW.”
And now I’m being escorted in a locked elevator by two cops who serious lack a sense of humor (but don’t they all?). I am escorted all the way to the bathroom. They have not followed me into the bathroom, so I throw the soap away in the garbage. If I can’t have the soap, then no one can.
Upon exiting the bathroom, I am again frisked by the officers.
“YOU KNOW BETTER THAN THAT AND YOU AREN’T THAT DRUNK TO BE DOING STUFF LIKE THAT.”
“I know, I’m sorry, it’s just I’m a germaphobe and I can’t afford soap because of the crashing economy.”
“WELL THATS WHY I WORK. THAT’S NOT AN EXCUSE. YOU ARE LUCKY WE AREN’T TAKING YOU INTO CUSTODY.”
“Yes, thank you. Jail is a very unclean place.”
I leave. My friend Dan is waiting at the bottom of the escalator with a big dumb grin on his face. “I thought I was going to have to get a ride home,” he jokes.
I have been wronged and humiliated by the police. Next time I’m at Browns Stadium, I must steal something. Maybe toilet paper?