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I am a 25 year old butcheyfemme queer with rubbish on my mind and sparkles everywhere else My Profile
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well hello there fellow people, animals, brutes or whatever you are or want to be. Today I am all good and yesterday I committed a real life crime and I am on the run. Well not exactly, but I was rebellious enough to walk out of a pub without paying for my food with Queen of Fun in tow, yes really. Actually there was no 'walking' but it was more like an almost full speed run, which, as I'm sure you can imagine is only slightly more than a brisk walk for the unfit Fee. We got all ragey cos we had places to be and we stood by the bar for a good 4 minutes (yes that long) waiting to pay and were fully blanked so we decided to protest by storming out in a dramatic fashion. This would have been quite a good way to go had we not have both shat it and decided to leg it down belmont street with every fucker and every CCTV camera following us. It wouldn't have been so bad had I not have had my stupid mules on which are beautiful in theory but completely stupid in practice and so I kinda gammy legged down the road with one leg trailing behind the other trying desperately to make our exit look cool and to keep the stupid shoes on my feet. What we must have looked like I really couldnt say - but one roly poly and one mammoth breasted girl bounding their way toward the eternities of food hell must have been close. Everyone knows I don't do running and now I am even more convinced of the reason why. The after look of over excersion (be that a 2 minute gentle jog) is not a good one for me and left me with a pair of shaky legs, fuzzy head (and hair) and the rosiest, weather beaten cheeks you ever did see. And all for the price of a whole £12.90. It's typical that I had chosen the cheapest things on the menu that day so really I ran for my life for a bowl of tatties and leeks and a plate of over fried chips and lumpy mayo. I always wanted to be a criminal. I got the taste for shoplifting when I was about 6 and was in a sweet shop with my mother. I snuck a massive chocolate candy up my sleeve under the watchful eye of the shop assistant who tried to glare me into submission but I denied everything and savoured every last mouthful when I got home. I think that was around the time my food compulsion and sneaky eating started. From around the ages of 15 -16 and a half I shoplifted sweets worth over triple my body weight. That's like shoplifting enough sweets to feed the whole of Cambodia four times over. I would skip school to go on sprees with one of my buds and fill her locker full and devour everything before morning break. I was a pretty child. From sweets I went on to stealing things from a spiritual shop and everyone had birthday and xmas presents from there. One day I came out with 4 books, 5 items of jewellry and a box of tarot cards. We ditched the tarot cards for fear of karma however. It wasnt long before the shop shut down. If I was stealing as much as £60 a day then other people also were. I do feel gulity and maybe my days of shoplifting have led me to become the most paranoid person in history. Or maybe that's something else altogether. I did get caught once. I was in safeways (then called prestos) and was showing off in front of someone slightly cooler than me and wanted to impress her with my rebellious ways so she would go back and tell all the other cooler people (who was basically everyone else in the entire school) thats The Fee was pretty damn cool. Nicking from this supermarket was not unusual, we would all get out lunch here everyday, and tea and breakfast, it was that easy. And so while I was supposed to be getting my fat legs out at PE I was stuffing multi packs of chewing gum in my pocket faster than you could yell 'store detective' and I'm waltzing through the checkout, smarmy as fuck when Miss Store Detective comes at me with a bunch of words that sent my head into a spin and escorted me off to the back room. On route I managed to deposit about 8 packs of polos and other mints but was left with 5 multi packs of gum. For all the things I had stolen, things worth in excess of £50 and here I was getting fucked over for 20 packets of EXTRA chewing gum, the blue stuff which I fuckin hated anyway. I sat in the back room and bawled my eyes our and waited for the police to show. When they arrived I was strangely attracted to the police woman who frisked me and tried to slip me a digit. Sorry that story ended up somewhere else. The racked through my bag to discover the entire spiritual shop and grilled me for a good 20 minutes on my shoplifting exploits. Eventually I was accompanied out of the shop, bang on 3.15pm, just as all the other kids were coming out of school. Here they all were traipsing past and here was me stood outside the shop with 2 police people crying my little heart out and just wanting to die. There was pointing and there was jeering and my street cred actually did soar a little bit, for being so fuckin stupid to get caught pilfering a bunch of gum and crying over it. Really it did. I'd like to say that I stopped stealing after that but I never. I continued to steal fags from my paper shop and sweets whenever hungry so that was pretty much constantly and even beer from my local shop. I only stopped when my mate got caught and they said they would only call her mum so we had to leg it home for me to pretend to be American and tell the shop that she would get a good seeing to. She did get a good seeing to. I blackmailed her into letting me cop a feel or I really would tell her her mother about her thieving little ways. And so my days of pinching everything in sight drew to a close as my little mind could take the near heart attacks no more. I reformed myself and have stolen nothing since. Until last night that is but hey, who the fuck cares about a bit of salad and cokeless coke? And so I go to think about how I never have to got to that bar again and rejoice in this fact cause it's pissy and stupid and full of pricks.
Britney Wannabe 
5/31/2002 10:53:00 AM
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Adventures of Charmin |
