In boxes of ten, wine right there in front of me, put plain and simple, waiting to be taken
I’d no money, and before I knew it the cashier could see exactly what I was doing
She sneered to herself before catching the security guards eye, informing him quietly to close the door
She tried to smile: “I can see what you’re doing, eying up those bottles of wine over there”
Holy shit, really I didn’t have a prayer, she having known what I was gong to do before I’d as much as gotten the chance to put my plan in motion, oceans of free wine falling by the wayside once more
“Say that again!”
I appeared shocked, taken aback, nowhere near willing to accept the momentary slack coming at me from left, right and centre
She knew my kind of person oh so well, shrugged her shoulder, telling me to get the hell on out of there, that she really didn’t have time to waste in having to quell this kind of thing
I leaned over her counter: “Just one bottle… ah, go on”
She smirked, could see that I wasn’t going to let this pursuit go too soon, that there was, in fact, a little room on her part for some kind of ‘improvement’
If she wanted she could go against the norm, let me storm on out of there – bottles, box beneath my left arm
“Go on, live a little. All I have to do is sidestep the fat fella at the door, pop open a bottle, maybe two, before meeting up with you following your shift. That way we get to share a few”
She did one of two things, turned a blind-eye, wished me luck, winked, before whispering for me to bring a decent bottle opener
I patted my pocket, shrugged my own shoulder, winked back and ran
Two culprits when it came to this particular plan
An inside-job

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