Today I had a very exciting shopping experience. My mum came to pick my carless self up from work at the mall, and we stopped to look at a cute-but-overpriced retro fairisle sweater on the way out. All of a sudden, someone started screaming about stolen diamonds just as a shady-looking character jogged towards the exit. As I was the only young person amongst a hoard of middle-aged ladies, apparently I was nominated to run after the fool and get his license plate number. "Go stop him!" some grandma barked at me, so I booked it out to the parking lot where I caught up with him just as he was getting into the waiting getaway-mobile. As I checked for his license plates(which he didn't even have), he threatened to do me bodily harm - what a sweetheart! Not wanting to end up with, as Ghetto Elmo would say, "a cap in my dome", I returned to the store, where the pack of old ladies seemed slightly disappointed that I had not tackled him to the asphalt. That probably wouldn't have ended well. I am currently enjoying daydreaming about ridiculous alternative outcomes, "like, such as": me pile-driving him, putting him in a choke hold, and then retrieving the diamonds, after which Channel 7 would feature me on the 5 o'clock news and Younkers would reward me with that cute-but-overpriced retro fairisle sweater, free of charge. Ah, yes.
RANT: In all seriousness, it makes me really angry when people think it's ok to steal. I'd rather live in the ghetto with no car and a crappy bicycle than have nice things that I didn't earn, like Mr. Hamburglar. Sigh.