Shoplifting

When I was nine I stole a pencil eraser from a stationary shop in Bracknell. I was so nervous that I almost got a heart attack when I was caught. And the guilt that followed. I was a superstitious child and actually believed in God. I also believed that my stealing an eraser would displease him so much that there was a real chance that I would spend eternity suffering the torments of Hell when my days are done.

Since I was going to Hell anyway and had nothing to lose, when I was twelve my friend Simon and I stole lots of sweets from a corner shop in the council estate where he lived. We went back for more when we realised how easy it was and then again for a third time. We had so many sweets we couldn't believe it. I felt guilty because the shop keeper was friendly but still, free sweets, and lots of them, that sort of wealth corrupts. We were sitting marvelling at our booty by the swings in a dreary play area covered in graffiti when a bigger boy came and told us that he had seen it all. He demanded the sweets in order for him not to turn us in.

When I was seventeen I stole a Travel Monopoly set from Woolworths. Howard and I took a look at it while we were drinking tea in Starburger next door. The pieces were too fiddly so I took it back and swapped it for Travel Scrabble.

A few years ago I went to Denmark Street to buy some replacement volume and tone pots for my guitar. The shop was charging £12 for a couple of mass produced, Chinese bits of plastic. Encouraged by my own sense of outrage I let the packet drop from my hand into the closed umbrella held in the other and walked out of the shop. I surprised myself with my cunning technique and it put me in a good mood for the rest of that day.

These were the only four acts of shoplifting that I have committed in my life aside from my having to steal packing tape shortly before leaving Glasgow (I hadn't a penny.)