Foibles and "shoplifting" indavertently

Back in college, a Chinese classmate gave me a company pocket diary where I listed stuff to buy. One evening, I was in National Bookstore near Araneta Coliseum and checked the pocket diary. Then I quickly put it back in my maong bag with a Raggedy Ann painted on it. Tandang tanda ko pa. It even had a wooden handle. Why does that memory stand out? Shortly after I put the diary back in my bag, the security guard accosted me. I said "Why?" He said I took something. I promptly opened my bag and he got the red diary. I said, but that's mine and it's been used. He returned it and walked away. No apologies. The maid with me said "you should have told him your Lolo can afford to buy National Bookstore." A gross exaggeration but comforting nonetheless. I was really shaken.

Years later, in my disabled state, my husband and I were choosing belts. The sales clerk gave me quite a number. I put them on my lap where my bag was. See, I can't feel beyond my chest so what happens down there, unless the sensation, okay pain, is intense, I'm clueless about it. (Proof: I used to sit my son on my lap, lots of groceries, etc. People would say they were heavy but I managed to smile. I didn't feel the weight. I just enjoyed having my son on my lap. Earlier, my nephew) Back to Rustan's. We got one belt, paid for it and were on our way out when the metal detector was agitated: tooot tooot tooot. Oops, I thought, my wheelchair has been detected. Then I looked down and lo and behold, under my bag a belt was lurking. I was soooooooooo embarrrrrrrrrrrrrassssssssssssssssssssssseddddddddd. The guard hastily went to me with a smile and said, "Sorry ma'am." Even the cashier and sales clerks smiled at me and said "Sorry." I guess that's Rustan's for you. And maybe it helped that I frequent the place even if only to look around. They thought or at least made me think I wasn't a shoplifter in their eyes. Whew.

If you think that embarrassing experience taught me to be more careful, it hasn't. But the succeeding mishaps have been minor. Except that it would have been interesting if I noted the dates and the places from which I've inadvertently brought home table napkins from restaurants. If my memory serves me right, I once brought out of Kimpura a peach napkin which was the same color as my pants. As I saw this just before I was loaded into the car, when we passed Kimpura, we handed it to the guard with our apologies. He merely smiled. I also brought home a burgundy napkin from I can't remember where, a white one from somewhere else, a beige one from yet another place. Last Saturday, I got one from Spring Moon. Make that I accidentally got one from the restaurant. Weird that I did as it was white, my pants weren't and my bag on top of it was beige. Their waiters weren't looking, I guess. Nice napkin. Had embossed patterns on it. Will I return it? Abangan...