Score One for the Good Guys

It seems to me that a majority of the populous thinks that rules are made simply to be broken; that they serve no useful purpose other than to inconvenience or to be manipulated in an effort to exploit those of us who are mature enough not only to understand the big picture of why rules and laws exist in the first place, but who actually like being held to a higher ethical standard. Case in point:

Mid-day today, I stopped by the Wally-Mart to run an errand. As I took my place in the express line, I observed two well dressed, attractive young women, aged 19 or 20, completing a purchase of what appeared to be a small DVD player and some incidentals (including a can of snuff; go figure). On the belt was a large stack of self-service kiosk photograph sheets. The cashier saw that they had not been scanned (i.e., priced) and called the photo department for instructions. She then directed the paying customer to complete the authorized portion of her purchase via the keypad, and then take her items and the photographs back to the photo desk to have them priced. The customer was informed that she would pay for them in Photo. Photo was expecting her.

I saw this train wreck coming from a mile away.

The girls sweetly thanked the cashier, gathered their bags, and departed the check-out. I looked at the cashier in awe, thinking, "Egad, but you are a trusting soul." I gently asked her if she truly believed the girls would do as she bid them, and she smiled and said she did. I scooted out to the end of the aisle and watched the girls meander towards the door. They had a 50% chance of doing the right thing: turning left and re-entering the store on their way to Photo. They turned right without a backward glance, on their way to the parking lot.

I informed the cashier that the photos just walked out the door. She didn't believe me. She looked around but didn't see the girls. She then told the senior cashier that the girls had stolen the pictures. The senior cashier didn't believe her. After a bit of coercing by the younger cashier, the senior cashier followed the girls, who I expected by this time to be halfway to Alabama.

While she searched, I gently recommended to the cashier that she should probably refrain from providing such an opportunity in the future. I suggested an easy way to prevent such an instance: by canceling the purchase in process and routing the customer back to Photo immediately. I also explained that they could very easily find out who the girl was by examining the credit card register, and that if they examined the printing record of the self-serve kiosk, they could recreate the purchase and debit her for the cost of the photos using the charge information already in the system. She admitted she hadn't even thought of that, and seemed hopeful that all would end well.

I departed with my purchase and passed the senior cashier, who was a little out of breath. I inquired "Any luck?" and she just shook her head. Gee, no real surprise there.

I scanned the parking lot briefly but didn't see the girls. I got into my car and made for the Parkway, when what to my wondering eyes should appear? Two little thieves in a Scion xA, sitting at the traffic light. I made note of the tag number as I pulled alongside, where I stopped and smiled at them.

Upon making the easily comprehended "Hey, roll down your window, I have something to impart" hand gesture, the passenger rolled down her window and smiled at me. I smiled back and asked, "Hi! Did you girls just leave the Wal-Mart?" They replied in the affirmative. Still holding a conversational, almost conspiratorial tone, I said, "Just so you know, the store has your information, about the pictures that you stole." And their pretty little faces blanched behind their now-faltering smiles. I then lowered my sunglasses a touch and said, not so conspiratorially, "I can't believe you just did that. That was just so . . . tacky." It is at this exact moment that I see the lower lip of the passenger begin to quiver, and the passenger-side window slowly begins to rise. The light changes and I nonchalantly drive off in a different direction from the girls.

Long story short, I then called the manager at the Wal-Mart and explained what transpired outside of the store, and told him that the girls were pretty much expecting to be charged for the photos at this point. I provided identifying details about the car. He obtained the time stamp from my receipt, took my phone number, and concurred that the store could recover the loss. Shoplifting charges might be pressed, but that is management's call. He thanked me profusely before saying goodbye to pull the videos and begin his investigation.

Now, that felt good.