This happened when I was a juvenile and the SofL has passed. Looting was
mentioned in another thread where Anna arues that it is caused by external
factors and Dyna that it is caused by internal ones. As an aside, it
seems Dyna is becoming a good academic, everywhere he looks he sees
something which he could try to get a grant to study. Anyway, I have only
been involved in what I would consider to be a looting event once (sadly.)
I was a sophomore in college and it was around 3:00 AM. There was only
one store in town open at that time, The WaWa. If you aren't familliar
with WaWa it is like a Seven Elleven only better. WaWa is a good little
corporate citizen as well, they really go out of their way to hire the
mentally defective. So there I was with about 200 very drunk college
students standing in a very crowded and slightly undersized convienience
store, I was waiting in line for a KrautChilliCheezeOnionRelishMustard
(hold the ketchup) UnderDog (thats what they call 'em.) There were about
50 people in front of me in line and another 50 behind me. The retard (a
REAL government certified retard) behind the deli counted was taking
orders about once every three minuites. As you can imagine this caused a
good deal of consternation among those waiting for sandwiches and
UnderDogs. The only other employee in the store was a standard issue (I
hate to say it but what are stereotypesw for but to describe those
archetypical people who so often punctuate the important moments of our
lives?) fat black bitch. You know the one, takes up three seats on the
bus and gives you a dirty look like you're a pervert when you accidentally
allow yourself to be brushed by one of the rolls of fat spreading across
two emty seats and beggining to encroach upon yours. Well she had a
backup at the register about half as long as the one at the deli counter
but unlike the retard who worked steadily if not speedily or competently,
this lady seemed to be spending most of her time shouting cruel epithets
at the retard.
The store seemed to be crackling with evil crazy energy. At a certain
point this release of energy became self sustaining, chaos beggeting more
chaos in a nuclear fission of frustration, self loathing, and general
dissatisfaction. The point of no return was a facinating one, everyone
seemed to notice at once that the level of background chatter had reached
a volume that was simply too loud. Too loud for a shop, just right for a
riot. There was a moment of silence, the cloud of madness having a space
of false peace before it as the monsoon silences the crickets and birds
just moments before the deluge. The tearing of a plastic doritoes bag
crackled throught the tense air and the lady at the rgister shouted "You
fucking punks take anything I'm locking the doors and we'll all wait for
the cops." Her pathetic appearance and demonstrated inability to bully
even a government certified retard gave her pronouncement all the weight
of a helium ballon. As one the crowd tore into the shelves ripping open
every box, bax and container in the store. Nilla Wafers flew through the
air which was clouded with the blaze orange dust of the mayhem taking
place at the Cheetos display. Drunken sorority girls were at the
vegetable and fruit bins taking one bite out of each and every peice of
produce on the shelves. Half the hockey team and a few members of the
Campus Crusade for Christ were busilly shaking and then opening every soda
in the display refrigerators. And then came a terrible crash, again there
was a moment of silence until it was realized that the shelves in one of
the refrigerated display cases had collapsed leaving an uninterrupted path
straigt into the STOCKROOM. People shoved and pushed their way into the
refrigerator and on through into the glorious hoard. Entire crates of
frozen burritos, Salt and Vinegar Potato Chips, and 5lbs boxes of
underdogs were tucked under arms and carried out of the store.
Through all of this the retard kept working happilly. Only a few persons,
such as myself, remained in line at the deli counter. But such was the
amicable togetherness of those conspiring to be naughty together I had no
problem getting somebody to hold my place in line while I got us all a few
Slushees. Well the fat lady behind the register had been unwilling or
unable to make a move towards the door, but she had called the cops who
arrived just as the person in line ahead of me had placed their order.
Just a few more minutes and I would have my UnderDog! But fate seemed to
be conspiring against me on this particular evening. The unfortunate
police officers who responded to what I later found out was a call to 911
that specified the problem as shoplifting as opposed to a riot, were
overwhelmed. The first officer in the door tried to grab a student
carrying a case of soda and managed to get one cuff on him. The other
students immediately reacted by throwing bottles and cans at the cops.
Deciding whether it was smarter to simply ignore the fleeing looters or to
open fire on a bunch of Ivy League brats (who included TWO children of
U.S. Senators and the granddaughter of a Supreme Court Justice) took the
cops about .5 seconds. They released their one apprehendee, still wearing
one cuff and carrying a case of soda, off into the night. Leaving the
door propped open behind them the cops went over to the register and
asked the woman there what the problem was. The fat bitch was still to
flustered (or just congenitally stupid) to make any kind of coherent
statement. She blurted out "Damn Kids Shopliftin'!!!" The police asked
her if anything specific had been taken and by whom. The fat lady could
muster no more than a broad sweep of her arms and a sputtered "THEM!!!"
The police officers scanned the store with their eyes. All who had
goodies to take home with them had left. All that remained were one young
man who had passed out in the corner well before the mayhem had begun and
about 6 people left in the Deli line, including myself. The police told
the lady behind the counted that she had better lock the place up. She
began closing out her register and the cops began to check on the
unconcious guy. I finally got to the deli counter and ordered my
UnderDog. The retard flashed his gentle smile at me and began preparing
my weiner. I slurpped the rest of my Slurpee and went back over to the
machine for a refill. One cops turns and asks: "You gonna pay for that?"
I say "Yep!" and wave the $5 bill I had brought with me to pay for the
underdog and whatever beverage. I went back over to the deli counter and
the retard gave me my UnderDog. Damn did it look good. I went over to
the lady at the register and proffered my $5 bill. She looked at me with
hate in her eyes and said "Rgister's closed you'll have to put those
things back." I mulled over just how to "put back" a Slurpee and an
UnderDog with the works (no ketchup) and said "Uhhhhhh..." The cops had
overheard this little exchange and one of them looked over at me and said:
"Take the damn hot dog and get outta here." I smiled and nodded at the
cop, went over to the retard and gave him a five dollar tip then walked
out of the store.
Rev Myrkury says:
C'mon, break the law, IT'S FUN!