Is That A Bottle Of Amaretto In Your Pocket Or Are You Just Happy To See Me?

Just when I think the neighbourhood I live in is going upscale I get stalked by a man in the liquor store. Being the environmentally friendly thing that I am, I have a canvas bag from the LCBO that I use whenever I shop there. I find their plastic bags too small to re-use as a garbage bag so avoid them whenever I can.

As I shop I fill the bag, take it to the counter remove the bottles and pay. It seems easier than getting a cart or basket. The other day I was making my rounds, one must browse and sample at the LCBO whenever possible, putting my selections in my tote. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed this large man hovering about. He had his wallet out and was counting his money. I thought he was going to ask me for “spare change to help give a hungry man something to eat”. “Liquid lunch” I thought as I played out the entire scenario in my mind, him asking, my being shocked and saying no. He then walked away. So much for pre-judging – bad yogi, bad!

Once loaded, I mean with bottles, not as in “dude I was so loaded the other night….” that is reserved for the privacy of one's own home, I made my way to the cash. As I placed my purchases on the counter and made small talk with the cashier I noticed the same person pacing back and forth in the first aisle. Again, I went into judging mode. At first I thought it was a nervous underage teen working up the gumption to actually try and buy something. I had flashbacks of doing the same with baby duck on lunch break during high school and drinking it under the bridge on the way back to class. We were so cool. But he was clearly a man, no teenager. Then I thought, he must be a shoplifter too nervous to make a break for it.

Without warning he rushed by me with another guy in close pursuit. They cut a woman off from leaving the store and said “okay, we caught you”. I had not noticed the woman before as I was pre-occupied with my stalker. She was skinny, I am talking Karen Carpenter here, with skin tight 1980’s jeans. She balked at first – “wha’ are ya talkn’ bout?” The two men kept saying “we caught you”, “we saw you” and “come on come on, out with it”.

Reluctantly she stuck her two peace fingers down the front of her pants and fished out a bottle of Amaretto. I don’t mean the small 200ml flask size either. It was the 750 ml! The men asked her turned around and one pulled out his handcuffs. “I neva left the sto! You can’t do noffin’ to me!” She screamed. Repeatedly. The “Turn around” and “I neva stol noffin” routine continued until I left. Pity I didn’t stay as it could have turned into a real “who’s on first” thing that may have been quite entertaining.

I hope you’ve all learned a thing or two from this entry. One, crime doesn’t pay. Especially at the LCBO in Mimico. Two, drink from a glass, you don’t know where that bottle has been.