When I was 12 we would go to the 7-11 near my parents’ house to spend our allowances. I had a decent baseball card collection and wanted more. My allowance wasn’t great, however. So I came up with a plan.
I went into the 7-11 and bought as many baseball card packs as my allowance could afford, minus one. I approached the counter and handed the clerk the eight packs and my cash. She gave me back a small amount of change. I left the store, rounding the building’s corner to where my little brother was waiting. All according to plan, I gave the eight packs to him and then returned alone to the store. I shoved another eight packs into my pockets before walking up to the counter with one more in my hand. I told the clerk that I had enough money with my change to buy one more pack. She was wary so she blocked me from leaving and called for the manager. He’s stealing, she said. She must have seen me stuffing them in my jacket. Hey, I was in here five minutes ago. These are the packs I just bought, I said, emptying my pockets.
The manager looked at the receipt and at the eight packs from my pockets and said, Okay, you can go.
It was the perfect crime for a 12-year-old.