Illegal activities

I remember as a teenager, when my form of rebellion was to enjoy going shopping with my mum, being totally disgusted by a good friend who I’d gone shopping with (Mum was busy that day) who had stolen a poster while I remained totally unaware walking out of the shop with her. I was angry that she involved me by association, and I just didn’t understand her need to steal it, then show off about it when we met friends on the bus home.

Yes, I was the goody-two-shoes kid at school, who never smoked dope, never stole anything, and never wagged school. The only detention I had was thanks to Luke who decided put chalk dust in my hair from a blackboard duster. With equality in mind, I did the same thing back to him and the teacher sent us both for detention. Luke, if you’re reading, you’re responsible for ruining my otherwise perfect record at school.

However, things seem to have taken a tumble recently when I helped a French friend steal. Yes, I aided a thief. He wanted dirt, and he knew a place where he could find it – a public park. Granted, the dirt had recently been dumped there by someone else, and my French friend assured me that it wasn’t stealing since he was merely reusing something that someone no longer wanted. When I suggested he could just buy some, he refused, saying that the mountains are full of dirt, and that he only needed a few square metres. So, we trundled off in his car and I directed him into parking his car for easy dirt loading.

While I waited for him to shovel dirt, a man walked past with a dog and said hello. Then a lady stared at us from a distance, and I was sure she would call the police. Seeing I was worried, my friend suggested he come back later without me, so we left with just a little dirt. He joked as we drove further away that a blue car was behind him — could it be the police? To be honest, I’m not even sure I should be writing about this just in case the police hunt me down and demand answers.

My friend went back later for more dirt. He told me that a whole group of school children went past, with the teacher saying hello politely. A guy on a quad bike rode by while the teacher tried to get the kids to stop running away. A teenager also walked past looking scared, which my friend attributed to the teenager imagining there was a dead body or something in the dirt. Thankfully, there was no body, and I’m hoping that my goody-two-shoes reputation can be restored quickly. I’ve tried to help that along immediately after with a charity donation, while my dirt-loving friend donated a spare mattress to the homeless. Maybe a guilty conscience is a good thing!