Stealing Candy

This is the way that we use to do it.
We would walk into Meyer's Deli.
I use to like that place.
There is a laundromat there now.
They sold all kinds of stuff.

As you walked in, the butcher's case was on the left.
They had all kinds of meats, cold cuts and cheeses.
On the right was the bread and pastries.
My mom use to send me there to buy the Russian Rye bread.
It was dark from the molasses.
It had lots of caraway seeds in it.
The loaves were small and dense.
Me, I liked the Bohemian light rye the best.

The butcher could make you a nice sandwich right there.
Pastrami, bologna, swiss cheese, mayo.
Whatever you wanted.
Then he would wrap it up in white paper
and write the price on it.
Then you would pay for it.
Maybe get a 7 ounce Coke with it.

They sold lots of other stuff.
Fried grasshoppers and chocolate covered ants.
Good stuff to buy and dare the other guys to eat.

Now they had 2 aisles down the middle of the place.
We would walk in and act normal.
I am not going to tell you who exactly was with me.
Some of them are dead.
Some of them have grown up.
Some of them are no longer into petty theft.
They have graduated you might say.

One of the guys would go over and ask the butcher how much something was.
Another guy would go over and look at the comic books.
Me and "Tommy" would walk down the center of the store.
Right to the candy.
I would turn around and look at the potato chips.
Then I would push "Tommy" into the candy with my butt
and he would say "watch it" as he stuffed his pockets.
I would go over to the freezer where the fudge bars were.
We would all walk out seperately.
We never got caught.
"Tommy" was always the guy who would actually take the candy.
We would walk around the back
and over to the retaining wall by the
First Methodist Church.
We would split the loot.

I would like to digress a moment
and analyze the economic rationale for my participation in this crime.
See, I was getting an allowance of twentyfive cents a week.
That was in 1958. Or maybe 1959.
I could buy fudge bars for five cents each.
Candy bars were the same.
Comic books were a dime.
Well the price of fudge bars went up to seven cents each.
My mom would not raise my allowance.
So that is why I did it.

I liked the people at the store.
I knew it was wrong.
But I needed candy.
That is all that I can offer in my defense.
Please forgive me.