CONTAINS STRONG LANGUAGE
A funny thing happened to me last evening as we arrived in our local Sainsbury’s branch for a quick top-up shop. Walking through the entrance, a store detective was attempting to restrain an angry shoplifter as she attempted to leave the store. People were standing around in shock, perhaps fearful of what this very loud and aggressive Welsh woman would do. Naturally, I didn’t stand around in shock. I did my all round hero act and moved forward to assist the store detective.
As I walked forward, a bottle of spirits fell from the shoplifter’s bag and, showing reflexes befitting a man perhaps half my age, I retrieved said bottle and handed it to a member of staff. But I’m afraid I wasn’t finished there. Neither had the woman.
She was ranting and raving, using the kind of appalling foul language which I use more often than I should. I told her that it was time she left the store, as she promised to call the police because of the treatment she felt she had received from someone trying to stop her stealing things. She was not impressed. “Shut up you, Bristol cunt,” she said. Charmed I am sure, but proud that after all these years I still sound like a Bristol boy. I reminded her a few times that she was a common thief and soon she was off into the night. I am not a brave man or anything like that, but I was appalled with what I saw.
A store detective doing his job, apprehending a common thief, and then receiving frightful abuse and female members of staff doing their jobs being on the end of the same. You could probably knock me down with little more than a feather, but I am not prepared to stand by when good people get stick.
I have talked with supermarket staff before and they all say the same thing. The amount of stuff that gets lifted from the shelves is enormous. Thieves sometimes come long distances and loot several stores in the space of a few hours. I have little doubt that this person was not taking part in an isolated incident. There are a number of stores within walking distance, including no less than four supermarkets, as well as budget stores, and there are plenty of opportunities for stealing.
I am not unaware of the likelihood that some people steal in order to exist. The cost of living is unbearable for many people, as I know well from my work at the local food bank and I understand why some people resort to crime. But when someone, like this woman, was snarling with aggression, my sympathy goes out the window. Being told to “Shut up you Bristol cunt” was never going to attract a sympathetic reaction. Instead, I pointed out that she was simply a thief and it might be a good idea to leave the store.
“This happens all the time,” said a staff member. “People pick things up, sometimes very expensive things, and brazenly walk out of the door. We have security guards at specific times but otherwise it’s down to us, mainly female workers. It’s not nice.” And it’s not. Mainly female workers, some with children at school, some older staff, disabled workers and youngsters studying at the local university. They neither need nor deserve this type of behaviour. And that’s why I got involved because that could have been me once or someone I know very well.
I thought after, or rather overthought later, what if this person had been armed with a knife? That might have led to a different outcome because these days it’s not unusual. But I didn’t think about it. I guess I just don’t like bullies. I do know that if I got in a ruck with anyone these days, I would not come out on top. To be honest, I didn’t think about that. I just wanted this incident to be over, for people to get on with their own lives and for this pitiful, wretched thief to get out of our lives.
She will be thieving again today. Don’t know where, don’t know when. In our fucked up country, for many people common thievery is a way of life. There has to be a better way, but I’m afraid solving things like this is somewhat above my pay grade. I’m not proud of what I did and maybe I was a bully, too. Mostly in life, you should do the right thing. I hope that’s what. I did. It was still very sad, though.
