That time I was accused of stealing

During my time living in London, there was one occasion where I was out right accused of stealing. This was particularly upsetting, as it was not only in a very public place, and aggressively executed, to the point I feared physical violence from my accuser, but also because I overpaid for the item that I was accused of stealing.

Full disclosure, if I had stolen this item, I would confess to it here, and just to prove it, spoiler warning, I have stolen something on purpose, but only once, and I deeply regret stealing it. I regretted stealing in the same day I stole it. I knew I would never steal anything again, especially anything as stupid, and that was before this incident happened.

I do plan on telling you that story.

The following events took place at the beginning of my third year at university, I know this for a fact, for several reason, all of which I will explain in future posts, when they are relevant.

While at uni, two of my friends, Eddie, and (we’ll call her) Skylar (not her real name, but her real name is extremely unique, and this is the closest I can get to her name without exposing her, which I obviously don’t want to do, and if I don’t pick a name which is similar to her real name I will accidentally call her by her real name either during this post and/or future posts) had birthdays within, if I remember correctly, eleven days of each other. Eddie’s birthday is on Halloween, mine is the day before bonfire night, Skylar’s is, I believe, six days after mine, so we decided to have a joint birthday night out in central London, as we had mutual friends, and none of us could really afford either financially or time wise to do three nights out in eleven days.

We were in a club that seemed to consider itself lowkey classy, which was mind numbingly boring. It was one of those clubs which has a toilet attendant, and perfume and sweets set up on the sinks. Sober, thirty five year old, me shudders at the thought of food so close to toilets, however tipsy twenty two year old me did not share that disgust.

Me, Skylar, her friend Sarah, and another one of her friends, had all gone to the toilets together.

At the sinks, all four of us each threw a couple of pounds into the attendant’s jar. I did it because she was intensely starting at us. Which made me feel extremely uncomfortable. It is my assumption that the other girls did it for the same reason. However, other than being uncomfortable around this staff member, we were in good spirits, talking and laughing as we fixed out hair and make up.

Other women put money in the jar to use perfume or take sweets. The attendant did not acknowledge any of these women. She continued to glare at the four of us, a scouser, and three Essex girls, the entire time. Whether it was due to our accents I can’t say for sure, but it would be safe to guess it was, as Lucy, who was also from Essex, occasionally talked about the discrimination that came with being from Essex.

I assume their uncomfortableness at being watched in such a hostile manner is also why they left me alone, after they finished fixing their hair and make up,  before I finished fixing my own, telling me they would see me back on the dance floor.

They had literally just walked through the door, heading back into the club, when a girl right by me dropped her drink. Bits of glass and liquid sprayed across the room.

Cursing and lecturing the girl about her carelessness, the attendant bent down and began clearing up the glass. She had her back to me, however there was a set of full length mirrors right in front of her, meaning she could clearly see behind her in the mirror.

After finishing what I was doing, I took another couple of pounds out of my bag, and with my right hand, I dropped the money into her jar. At the exact same time, I took a lollypop with my left hand. There is not a possibility the attendant did not see me put money in her jar (just like other people who had taken sweets had done) if she saw me take that lollypop, which she did, because the second my hand touched that stick, meaning the second the money left my other hand, all hell broke loose.

She jumped up, actually dropping the glass she had picked up, spun around, and rushed towards me, screaming. “You thief! You dirty, stinking, little, thief!”

Then, she snatched lollypop out of my hand.

Everybody in the room turned to watch.

At first, I was shocked and afraid, because not only had I paid for the lollypop, I had tipped her for no other reason than she was staring at me and my friends in hostile manner, I was backed into a corner, with her leaning over me screaming directly into my face, and both her hand and elbow had made contact with me as she snatched the lollypop off me, then moved towards me.

This shock and fear only lasted a few seconds before hot rage swept over me. My skin was burning red and I was trembling I was so angry.

“What do you mean thief?” I shot back at her through gritted teeth, trying my best to appear and remain as calm as possible, which wasn’t easy considering the level of rage I can achieve and the fact that I was couple of drinks in. “I’ve put about six pound in your shitty jar. Is that not enough to pay for a lollypop here?”

(To put this situation into perspective, today you can still buy one of these lollypops from a corner shop for less than a pound.)

At this point, the room was so quiet the only things I could hear was the sound of my own blood pumping through my veins and my ragged breathing.

We glared at each other for several more seconds.

I though about being petty and taking the money I had given her back out of her jar.

Instead, I slide from between her and the wall, and without looking at any of the spectator, walked out of the toilets.