We were fourteen and decided to steal stickers from surf clothing at Bullock's in the mall.
Two White boys roaming the Rip Curl and Gotcha button downs and board shorts and sweatshirts.
No one following us. No one watching. An initial friendly hello from the sales person. Otherwise no interaction.
Just two White boys browsing clothes we couldn't afford and had no intention of buying.
And tugging stickers off belt loops and button holes and stuffing them in our pockets.
To put on our school folders and CD players and bike frames. To show our friends we were cool.
It was too easy. Ten minutes. A few dozen stickers in our pockets. The most skilled and clever petty thieves around.
Until we walked outside and a man asked us to return the stickers we stole.
Until he took us to a room and showed videos of us committing our crimes.
Until he called our parents.
Until we got a one year ban from the store.
Which all sucked. And was embarrassing. A lesson in integrity.
But we never felt harassed. No one on the floor suspected us. No one followed us. No one threatened us or saw us a threat.
We were treated with respect. Two relatively innocent White boys who made a mistake. An error of judgment. A poor decision.
A slap on the wrist for punishment.
Then we carried on with our lives.