When Grandy was a little girl, she was THE biggest tomboy.
I walked in and paced around those candy bars for what it seems like an hour. I'm sure it was probably only about 5 minutes, but hey, I was only nine. I must have looked so guilty.
As soon as I grabbed the candy bar, I went to put it in the pocket of my vest, and the manager walked by. "Can I help you with something?"
CRAP!! SO BUSTED!!
"Oh no, thanks!!" - as my face went red.
"What's that, in your pocket there?" he pushed.
"Oh! Um!! This?! It's a candy bar...sir!" - I'm not very good at this, can you tell?
"I can see that. What I can't tell is why you have it in your pocket." - This guy was tough!
"Well, I wasn't sure I wanted it and was walking over to my sister down there to see if she had enough money to split it with me." - WHA? Now I'm getting my sister involved? I'm going to hell for sure!
"Where's your sister?" - Oh...he had me there...that's right...sis was outside because she was the good one.
"She's around the corner looking at the ice cream." - He keeps firing...I keep dodging.
"Well, alright then. I hope she agrees to help you buy it." - You mean it worked?
I end up putting the candy bar back. Guilt had overcome me, as I bamboozled this man. Although, ya know, looking back he probably wasn't fooled for a minute but knew I was really bad at this.
I went outside and the boys were out there. They were giving me all sorts of crap about not getting the candy bar. My heart was still racing from the possibility of my parents finding out (they knew EVERYONE in town) what I had almost done.
I didn't care what these so called friends said. I was mad at them for almost getting me killed (because that's what would have happened) AND I was still mad at them for the last little thing they had me try.
Those A**HOLES never told me I was supposed to SPIT!!