"Honestly," I said to the man who had stopped me after I left the drug store, and as I looked around the parking lot of the strip mall I was grateful that at least there weren't many people around to witness this new low in a life that had been spiraling downward for a few months. "I don't know what I was thinking. It was a senior moment or something."
"How old are you lady?" the man asked as he held the Dove deodorant he had pulled out of my pocketbook.
"59", I admitted.
"Then you aren't a senior," He said. "Let's go back in the store. Easier for you and me both if you walk nice and calmly, but if I have to drag you I will."
I went. I was pissed off but mostly at myself because I was wrong. I don't even remember putting the thing in my pocketbook, but I've had a lot on my mind lately. I paid for the lipstick but forgot about the deodorant until I got collared in the parking lot.
The walk of shame was a long one and I'm sure my face was as red as it felt as I followed the security man through the store and into the back room, where he ushered me into a sparsely furnished office and locked the door behind him.
"Look, can I just pay for it?" I asked, trying to walk the thin line between asking and begging. "It was a mistake. Why would I pay for a $9 lipstick and steal a $3 deodorant?"
"Good question. You're the thief so why don't you tell me? You kleptomaniacs are something else," the man said.
"I'm not - sorry - what's your name sir?"
"Tom."
"Thank you. Tom, I'm not a thief. I swear. I stole a package of cupcakes from a store when I was 10. That's it. I'm a respected member of the community," I assured him.
"Drivers license please. What else did you steal?"
"Nothing. I didn't even steal that, at least not on purpose. You don't understand. I've had a rough couple of months," I pleaded as I handed him my license.
"And it just got rougher," Tom informed me as he looked over my I.D. at me. "Marie."
***
"We can handle this here or call the police," Tom informed me. "Your choice."
"Of course I'd rather take care of it here," I said as I fumbled through my wallet and pulled out some bills. "Here, this is for the merchandise and this - these are for you. For your trouble."
Tom sneered at my offering of 3 singles in my left hand and $37 in various rumpled denominations I clutched in my right.
"It's all I have on me," I told him.
"What do you think I am, a whore?" he replied. "And a low-rent one at that. No, that won't cut it."
"Then what?"
"Your pocketbook," Tom said curtly. "Dump it out on the table."
I did as he asked, mumbling as the contents poured out of the bag, and as I looked at the mess I wished I had cleaned it out.
This Tom guy went through all of the stuff, looking at the various items that were spread around, looking for more stolen goods that weren't there. He even asked me if I had stolen a roll of life-savers that was almost half gone.
"What's this?" Tom asked as he fished inside of my pocketbook and found something tucked in the inside pocket.
"Nothing," I said as I grabbed for it, but that effort was neither appreciated or effective.
"You make one more move like that and I'll put the cuffs on you," he warned.
"Cuffs?" I said. Are you serious?"
A few seconds later after Tom had fished the cuffs out of his pocket and waved them in my face I shut up and watched as my humiliation only got worse.
"What the hell is this..." Tom mumbled as he unfolded the papers.
"It's nothing," I said. "It's just something somebody gave me to read."
"Marie Provost," Tom said as he started to read. "Is that you? Your I.D. has a different last name."
"It's not me," I lied.
"What is this? Porn?" Tom asked. "Back to the Farmer's Market."
"Please don't," I mumbled as he began to read the story out loud, but although she stopped reading out loud he didn't stop reading, just pausing to grin over at me and then shifting things around in his pants as he got to the end.
"You dig black guys, huh Marie?" Tom said as he leered at me. "You don't look like a coal burner."
"It's not..."
"This is you lady. You fit the bill of the slut in this story. You do look a little like that Brady Mom. Can't picture her going down on brothers though. You like the big black dicks?"
"It's just a story," I whined. "I never did anything like that."
"Whatever. Okay, what else have you got hidden on you?"
"Hidden? Nothing."
"Like I'm going to believe a thief? Let's get those clothes off."
"I will not."
"Then pick up that phone over there and call the police," Tom sneered. "They'll strip you down at the station."
"But - can't you have a woman do this? The cashier?"
"Oh, you got your eye on that redhead huh?" Tom said. "Go both ways?"
"No."
"Let's go then. The faster you get done the better," Tom said, and as he crossed his arms over his burly chest he started tapping his fingers on his elbows. "I'm waiting."
My hands were shaking as I unbuttoned my blouse, something I can usually do a lot faster when I'm not a nervous wreck, but I managed and after I pulled it off my shoulders I shook it out.
"Satisfied?"
"The slacks," Tom said, and when I started to protest he gave me a look that got me kicking off my shoes fast, unbuttoning and dropping the slacks down before stepping out of them. "And the socks. You kleptos stick stuff everywhere."
At that point I knew where this was headed although there was always the chance that I could just be having a scare put into me, but that wasn't to be.