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Criminal Reformed

The Many Aspects of Living and Adapting in an Insane World

Chapter Juan

I have been a criminal most of my life, mostly just stealing small things like gobots and candy in the beginning; but all of this would eventually progress in size and frequency. 

From Prison Back to the 'Real World': First Installment

It is said that criminals usually start small and, as their comfort level increases, become more and more bold. I cannot speak for everyone, but in my case, this was definitely true. The first thing I remember stealing was a gobot from a store in a small town close to where I grew up at a grocery store my grandmother and I used to frequent. I will omit some specifics for obvious reasons, and some not so obvious, so I will call this store the G-store. Now, if there is anyone that doesn't know what a gobot is, it's a cheap ass version of a transformer that all the poor kids used to get back in the day when I was growing up. 

Being as how the store was in a small town and the time was late 70s early 80s in Texas, it can be compared to the way stores in Texas are depicted in certain movies of the age. The G-store was a grocery store but also like a really big convenience store. These memories may skip around a little because some of them are vague, and I want to be sure to be completely honest in the way things happened. Everything that I say in this and my stories to come are completely true and will constantly remain so. 

We went into the store and it was a small custom that she would buy what she needed as I just looked at stuff I wanted, then think about how I would convince her to buy it for me. I ended up in the little toy robot section of the store and saw one I wanted, of course, then found my grandmother to begin with the convincing. Upon approach, she immediately made it clear that she would not be buying me anything so there was no need to ask. I was dumbfounded at how she knew I was going to ask for something but was not ready to accept her terms, so I offered new ones. 

I asked her, "What if I found the toy?" She then said that if I "found" the toy in the store that it still belonged to the store and that I should either leave it where it is or give it to a worker. 

I then asked her, "What if I found it outside?" 

She then asked, "Where outside?" so I said, "Under the car." 

She said, "Well if it was under the car then it was lost" and that I would be able to keep it. So I agreed and went about my business. Obviously "my business," was to steal the car and since this was the first time I stole from a store, I was a purist of sorts, so I just walked over to the specific toy and put it in my pocket, then walked away, stood and walked by my grandmother for the remainder of our shopping experience, then when we were leaving, the most curious thing happened. All of a sudden, I needed to tie my shoe and when I got on one knee to do so, I saw something under the car. I couldn't make it out at first so, like a white guy in a horror movie, I had to investigate. I reached in my pocket while sliding underneath the old, light blue Chevy and as if I was grabbing something from underneath, I produced the gobot which we had conversed about earlier! It was a fucking miracle and God must have been listening to my plea since the very object of my desire was in the exact same place that I had foretold. I was obviously some sort of messiah that would be most beneficial in learning how to use such great responsibility for the advancement of mankind, but was quite content at the moment with my own advancement and acquisition of more gobots. 

My G-ma was not having it though, being the God-fearing woman that she was, and asked me several times if I had really found it under the car or if I had stolen it. I continuously said yes until she finally broke me down into confessing by using God and eternal punishment as motivators, and made me go back in the store and put it back where I had gotten it from. After this, she admitted to already knowing that I had stolen something and that she had actually known the time when I had stolen it. I know my grandmother meant well, but telling me the moment she knew, by telling me how I was acting and what I had done to let her know, was the worst thing she could have done because this was the beginning of my introduction to the psychology of stealing; analyzing how others were thinking and using their thought patterns to become a better thief. 

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