fingered... but... never again...
It started with the cunnung plan to buy a bottle of wine, fine, that bit was easy.

Nip into Tescos scuttle along to the offee section, grab head for the checkout, doddle.

Thinks, no way of opening it, what to do??? I know! Further cunning plan, knick an opener from Woolies.
(Put on invisibility cloak here would have been a real life saver) There they are, pick one up,scoot, but wait, pounding footsteps, a sense of being followed, faster! Too late!

Collared by store security. Wait in dingy basement room for what seems eternity.

Feds arrive, they are with jolly store tec, who's especially happy cos it wasn't one opener, two got lifted virtually simulaneously. There was me; spotty, longhaired student, and a gentleman of indeterminate age, who looked like his address was a piss filled doorway.
Off to the cop shop. No Nee Naw Nee Naw though.
The feds comiserate, "If it weren't for him, they gesture, we'd a' let you off".
Stand behind the line, searched, however, not searched are my footware, monstrously uncool leather sandles- no socks at least. While riding in the cop car I had taken the itsy bitsy perspex dope box out of my pocket and bunged in my instep.
Off to the cells, brought a whole new meaning to clink, as the hidden article sounded as we made our way to "MY CELL". An opportunity to consider the implications and consequences of my foul deed.

However, when the jailer turned his key to incarserate me he found it didn't work. "No bars will hold me!" thinks I.
Eventually after a "cooling off" or "lets see what we can find out about this person" session I was allowed to leave the police station (Choo-Choo)with the wine I had been given back,that evening did the wine and blow.
Neither really did it for me, nothing soothed my pain, sorrow and despair.
Court was not a cheery experience, it was miserable and I felt a right twat.
(de do ron ron Essay?What Essay is that?When?, Mon 14 Jan 2008, 0:07, Reply)