by pam. ashlund
Sunday afternoon, almost dinner time, and I am OUT of paper towels. to buy some groceries at the Ralph’s at the Marina. An ordinary expedition for some sundries. Standing in line, I watched the checker scan my purchases. She was smiling and talking over my shoulder to a young manager in the aisle behind me.
$31.47 please.
ATM or Credit?
Cash back with that?
Paper or Plastic?
“ATM No Paper,” I say, swiping my card. I’m in a hurry to get back to my car to hear the end of "Doctor Who" on NPR. When just then she says to her young manager friend “Hey, there’s that guy, he just left some money!” The manager-guy says “that’s the guy?” “yeah, he was here last week, go, go” And the manager-guy takes off chasing the guy out the door.
The scene got the adrenaline flowing. It had shoplifting drama all over it. But with the thrill came disappointment. Oh damn, crime even here in the Marina, why did I even feel the lure of safety and wealth. But then the words come back to me “left some money?” Didn’t she mean “took some money”? Weird, weird.
So, back comes manager-guy with a smile on his face. Checker-girl tells me that this mystery man has been coming in every week and dropping hundreds of dollars into the plastic muscular dystrophy donation bins. “Last week it was $1,100 right?” she asks manager-guy. “I asked him why was he being so anonymous” manager-guy says.
“What did he say?”
“He said charity should be anonymous”
“Whoa, what kind of car was he driving”
“A Honda Civic”
And with that, checker-girl hands me my receipt and I’m off to my car to catch Doctor Who.
Honda Civic. Anonymous charity. Something just doesn't add up. An unappreciated bus boy stealing from the rich and giving to the poor? An elaborate money laundering scheme? A long con game that hasn’t played out yet?
Or just the first reverse shoplifting I have ever seen? In the Marina. In the twilight. Just out to get some paper towels.
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