Kleptomaniac Tendencies

(I think that title has the correct spelling... one can never be sure)

I went shopping to Bexleyheath with Lucy the other day. It was an... interesting experience.I think the funniest part of the trip was when I went to the door in Primark to collect a basket.

However, my marching toward the door, arms filled, somehow alerted the security guard to my presence and she eyed me very severely as I got closer to the exit. Just as I was about to get the basket (no, honest, really) I heard Lucy's voice behind me
"Constance?! What do you think you're doing?"

Things are coming to a pretty pass if my own sister, who knows that I haven't shoplifted yet, (and should know that I never will), begins to doubt me!!

Well, I turned back with the basket and walked back inside the store, feeling the stare of the security guard burning holes in the back if my head

"I thought you were going to leave, just make a run for it" Lucy told me, somewhat distressed "I could see the security woman getting ready to run after you"

I could see the woman eavesdropping the conversation so felt the need to ask

"Have I ever shoplifted yet?"in my poshest, coldest voice. Then, seeing Lucy looking so apologetic and the woman listening with interest I suddenly had to confess

"All right" I said sufficiently loud "I did for one second - one millisecond really -have the terrible thought 'let's see how fast this one can run'

As I turned back I could see the woman making a valiant attempt not to smile. She lost the battle and began to grin like a Cheshire cat.

I don't know about you, but I like to think I achieved the impossible, got a security guard to smile!!!!!!!!

(apart from this one I knew in 2002 who would smile everytime he saw me and tell me England would lose the world cup... That sort of thing can really knock the confidence of a child!)

Thinking back, however, maybe I shouldn't have said that about running, I might have ended up in trouble lol, but it 'was' irresistable.

A bit like when an Immigration official hands you your passport application and asks you to swear every word of it is true, and you suddenly get the urge to stop for a moment, spend a good two long minutes thinking to yourself and then say absent mindedly

"At least, I think I was born in 1992. Might have been 1982..."

I almost did that once, except instead of the whole date thingy I just nodded happily, then let my face freeze "Oh, I mean unless there is something you're not telling me, Dad?"

Dad said absolutely nothing immediately, but the second we were done and out of there, I got such a telling off!

Oh well, I was younger then, and although it probably wasn't the very wisest thing to do, I think I learnt my lesson.

Since then I've been told hundreds of times that immigration officers have no sense of humour. Dad specialises in immigration...