Welcome to another episode of Crackpot Confessions! As I write this, I am sitting at a picnic table in the park not that far from my office. I just finished a pulled pork sandwich from Subway (LOVE it), and am sipping on an icy cold Diet Coke. It is a sunny, balmy 77 degrees. Ahhhhh, utter perfection. Well, except for the fact that this picnic table is slanting downhill so I feel like the laptop and I are about to go sliding.
Today, we're going to talk about shoplifting. Again, this is NOT me, I'm making this up as I go along. If you have something you'd like me to confess to for next week, put it in the comments!
Your narrator for today is Robyn.
I am so not a crook, okay? Get that thought right out of your head. Do I look like a crook to you?
*stares you down waiting appropriate response*.
Yes, I have taken things that technically didn't belong to me, but I have a very good reason: My sister, Eve.
Eve is 4 years older, but frankly, she's not that bright. My parents really ought to have named her Naive. Seriously, it's that bad. She looks like an angel with those big blue lie-to-me eyes, but is about as sharp as a cotton ball. Don't get me wrong, I love my sister. She's the sweetest thing, and would never ever hurt a soul. In fact, she's always first in line when someone needs help. Of course, she's been swindled out of a huge chunk of change in the process, and had her heart broken more times than I can count. If I could find the bastards that hurt her, you better believe I'd even the score.
Enter Joey. Joey owns a sports memorabilia shop over on 47th. I guess he used to play in the Majors. Just good enough to get there, not good enough to stay or be memorable. Ahhh, the irony that the forgotten now sells memorabilia. Those who can, do. Those who can't (and are bitter about it) screw the rest of us over to make themselves feel better.
Joey is the Ultimate Urban Italian stereotype. Loud, obnoxious, and vain. I've been to Italy. Real Italians are warm and generous. Joey is not a Real Italian. Joey is, however, drop dead gorgeous. I can see how my sister was snared. That thick, black hair and eyes the color of malted milk balls. Who wouldn't fall in love with him? He's 40 years old but doesn't look a day over 24. (I don't think he ever told Eve how old he was.)
Anyway, Joey hired my sister to work in his shop. Eve doesn't know the first thing about sports. I mean she's lucky if she can identify which sports score touchdowns and homeruns. What business does she have working in a sports shop? Ahhh, but Joey hires nothing but beautiful women to lure men into the shop. I think he overcharges too, but I'm not going to waste my time with an investigation that will probably just prove me right in the end.
Okay, so he has a right to hire who he wants. But he treats them like crap. He's always flying off the handle at someone over nothing. For a long time Eve was immune. Eve he was super nice to. Flirtatious. I saw it coming a mile away, but Eve thought it was love. Again. She was completely smitten by the time she figured out he was married. Yeah. With kids. He strung her a long for awhile, then when she (at my urging, I might add) started asking him tough questions like, "are you ever leaving your wife?" or "you're just using me aren't you?" he broke it off and started giving her shit at the shop, too.
It wasn't long before he'd hired someone new, a fiery red head with so many curves, even experienced NASCAR drivers would spin out of control.
Then he fired Eve and refused to pay her what he owed her. Said she stole merchandise. Eve just gave in. But finally! I knew how to find one of the ass wipes who broke her heart. And I wasn't going to let him get away with it.
So periodically, I visit his little shop. Usually in the afternoons when I can be sure he's off seducing the redhead. The girls on duty don't usually see me because they're busy flirting with the male clients--of which there are many. The men don't see me because I'm just your average jane, err Robyn, and these other gorgeous women are purring in front of them.
The first time I took a baseball card in a hard plastic case...don't ask me who it was, I don't know or care. Sold it on ebay and made $1,000. I paid my sister (told her Joey had a change of heart) and gave the rest to a women's shelter. Figure sooner or later, one of Joey's women are going to end up there, and I'd like them to be well-cared for.
So, you tell me. Do I sound like a crook to you?