The Hot Wheels Theft or How to receive a Scar: One of the worst feelings I remember as a young boy of around not yet double digits was being reprimanded by one of my parents. Did I deserve it, damn right! I’d nicked a Hot Wheels car from a Woolco department store! And was caught!
Mark and Mike had directed me to the exit of the Woolco which was the mall entrance after they’d helped me stuff the Red Baron (to this day it’s still my favorite HW car) in a pocket.
There I was, with the coolest Hot Wheels car $.50 could buy stuffed in my bell-bottom jeans that Mom had purchased from “Boo Boos” a slightly imperfect garment store of the ’60s, on the way out.
I felt it, a hand on my shoulder. I turn to look hoping to see Mark or Mike. It was this stranger. A woman. Christ she seemed so tall. She seemed youngish and nicely dressed and she said kindly, “Empty your pocket for me.” Now, I wasn’t the smartest kid in class. Not even the smart-assiest in class. That went to Greg McConnell, but I knew that she wasn’t asking. So I reach in and pull out the scoffed Red Baron and hand it over explaining that it was Mark and Mike that did it. They’d surprised me at the prospect of crime, I was under pressure -insert required Queen riff here- so I caved.
That’s it, I’d thrown them under the bus. My friends. I was so scared that I farted! But I guess I wasn’t too scared, because I hadn’t shat myself! No linen freckles in my gotchies when I got home.
Not a safe place after your Mother- at stay at home Mom at that time– receives a phone call from Woolco Security telling her, her son had been caught stealing & you’d better come here and get’m.
Mark and Mike didn’t have anything on them when approached by security. Just me. They were free to go home. That place where you weren’t scared about your Dad’s arrival from a long ride to and from work in downtown TO. Bus and Subway. TTC!
There I was, sitting, waiting, thinking…sucker.
When Mom did enter the office I was glad to see a familiar face. I didn’t cry. I don’t know what I’d said, until I’d try to explain to Mom on the way to the Valiant in Agincourt Mall parking lot, that it was Mark and M… “Wait till your father gets home” she sliced with her eyes, Medusa curls in rollers under a chin tied scarf holding them back, and “How do you think your Grandparents would feel if they knew what you’ve done?” stated with the intent to shame.
I felt awful. I was reprimanded, punished and received a lasting scar. You can’t see this kind of scar. You can only feel it. Some would argue, that the residual trauma of the Woolco theft can’t be, because I don’t see it.
That was 48 years ago, and it still fucks with my head. Of course I deserved to be in shit but whats with the lasting guilt? I’m not Catholic.
My Grand parents were very influential to my raising -both sets- and shaping. They would be crushed!
I never stole again but have permanently borrowed pens, lighters, beer, whiskey and other unmentionables. Thanks, s
Hi there stopper by, I’m new to blogging, if in fact that is what this is I’m doing, a little about me. I’m just a guy that enjoys music, playing acoustic guitar, watching the Jays.
Favorite Book: Frankenstein
Favorite Current Group: Band of Horses
Favorite Group of Past: Ya right, one?
Favorite Actor: Kurt Russell
Favorite Actress: Kurt Russell, Tango & Cash remember?
Was in the Hospital in 2012 for High Blood Pressure. They were wrong, it was Fucking Dangerously High Blood Pressure. I suppose the meds given me were plentiful and fast acting, fast actin tinactin. I experienced three strokes. Thankfully they were small. Things were effected, affected? Different. That’s it, different!
I hope to use this blog as an outlet for pressure retention or PS or pissss. Also to talk of my experiences and struggles.
Remember not all injuries can be seen.
Keeping shit inside is so much easier than dealing with it, don’t you think?
I have a full-time job and own my own business. You could peg my age by my comments or references. What ancient Chinese secret? You’re soaking in it.
I’m going to write some different and hopefully interestin shit about feelings good, bad, void of. Living with stroke side affects.
Music and why your favorite band sucks!
Kurt; the man, the myth, the legend,the eyepatch and his Canadian connection.
Canada’s 150th & the Hip. and tons more. Please comment if you feel like it, about anything I’ve written. I’m not Political. I embrace different cultures, especially when it involves curries!
I don’t embrace over-population. I’m not talking World, I mean the 401!
Oh! I’m left-handed. I don’t know why that seemed pertinent.
I’m really trying to juggle many things and it’s hard as you may know so, so let’s see what happens yo!
Take it easy, s