it's nice to be wanted (but not in 5 states)

It's funny. After all these years of bending the law to and fro, yesterday I finally crossed the line. That's right, I crossed over. I went from minor villain to Master Criminal in the space of a heartbeat. I've been turning over the whole incident in my mind all day while listening to some old Johnny Cash tunes. I thought I understood his songs before, but now? Now I really get them.

It all went down like thus: We were at the movie theater yesterday, buying snacks, which in itself is innocuous enough. We ordered a pretzel (yum!), nachos (yummer!) a large Diet Coke (really large!). Now you might think that would be enough, but the theater was also selling mongo Rice Krispies bars at a bargain (for charity). We ordered one of those, too. Without thinking, I reached out and put one in my sweatshirt pocket. From there, I calmly surveyed the lobby scene and waited for the girl behind the counter to purvey the rest of our goods. She gave us our stuff and we entered the theater.

About twenty minutes into the movie we decided to eat the Rice Krispies bar. As you might expect, it was strictly delicious. Roughly five minutes after that I decided a trip to the restroom might be a good idea (it was indeed a large Diet Coke). I excused myself and strolled casually down the theater hallway to the mens restroom. As I entered the mens restroom, I slipped my hand into my sweatshirt pocket and discovered...another Rice Krispies treat! Yes, that's right, I had pulled a classic con; the old switcheroo -- the old 'double-dip.'

I hurried to the bathroom mirror and looked at my reflection; as I suspected, my pupils were dilated. Breathing hard, I splashed cold water on my face and tried to think clearly. In the movies, they tell people to stay calm at times like this. I'm here to tell you, it's not that easy. Not when your world is coming apart.

I realized I had two options. One, light out for old Mexico. Two, I could go turn myself in, throw myself at the mercy of the snack counter folks. I opted for option two. In the end, it turned out it really wasn't such a big deal. The kid I confessed to looked at me like I was either a) a dork for turning myself in when I had successfully perpetrated the heist or b) simply a dork. He took my money and that was that.

Or was it? Clearly I have some talent for thievery. And I've seen a lot of heist movies. And as I've said all along, I already have well over 10 million dollars in the bank. Now all I have to do is figure out a way to get it out of there without anyone getting threatened or hurt.

Hmmm..