Victimless Crime

As one of my good friends gets settled into her Orlando-area apartment, I am reminded of the last person I know who moved to central Florida...

Leelee came out of the Dunkin Donuts and handed me my latte. Then she pulled a bag of coffee beans out of her coat pocket and winked: "Here's a gift of you." I thanked her profusely until she looked me in the eye and said: "Don't worry about it. They were free."

"Free? They were giving them away?"

"No, free as in if they're stupid enough to leave their coffee beans somewhere where someone can put them in their pocket without being noticed, they deserve it. That's the price of stupidity."

Welcome to the new world of my 34-year-old friend Leelee whom I had known previously only as a Catholic College graduate who taught small children and who had a lifelong obsession with anything Disney. Not exactly the resume that would have piqued Capone's interest, but maybe it should have. The last time I had seen her I had invited her out to Harry's to see some bands and her biggest quirk that night was that she was wearing a jacket with a picture of Tigger on it. At the time I thought it was a big quirk and spent most of the night trying to hide it from everyone's view. Little did I know that as I fretted over her jacket she was probably picturing herself jumping over the bar to empty the till foolishly left open by the harried bartender.

"Yeah, it's just like at the Mall. All you have to do is steal the thing that removes the alarm sensors from the clothes and you're all set."

"What do you mean 'All you have to do'?"

"You can walk out of that frickkin place wearing five dresses and if the alarm doesn't go off they don't have the brains to think of stopping you."

"So because you can get away with it you do it?"

"Hey, it's not easy looking cute for the kindergarteners. You know how much these Halloween sweaters cost?"

I guess what disturbed me more than her 'if they're too stupid' policy was the pre-meditatedness of it. "So you first had to go and steal the thing that removes the sensors?"

"The clothes are worthless without that, dufus." She tapped her fingers into the side of my head like you would picture Joe Pesci doing.

"Aren't you afraid you're going to get caught?"

"Well, N. got caught once, but she sweet-talked her way out of it."

This revelation shocked me. N. was another elementary school teacher, a sweet women whom some years earlier I had a bit of a crush on. "She 'sweet-talked her way out of it?'"

Leelee winked. "I don't know if it was sweet-talking or something else, but it worked."

After the doughnut shop Leelee decided to make a stop at the Mall. I could feel my heart racing, wondering if she were about to involve me in a crime. I mean, in another one. I was still holding the hot coffee beans after all. It was a busy day and as Leelee drove around looking for a good spot, she cursed:

"Goddammit, I knew I should've brought my handicapped sticker with me."

"Your what?" I suppose after our first heist I shouldn't have been so shocked, yet I was.

"Yeah, N. and I always park in the handicapped spot. It's convenient when you need to get out quick, if you know what I mean."

Suddenly I'm picturing myself driving the getaway car--not to mention standing in an unemployment line after we get caught and the newspaper headline reads: TEACHER BANDITS ON SUMMER CRIME SPREE.

"But, where did you get it?"

"Well, I saw a car with the windows open and a handicapped tag on the rearview mirror."

"So you stole it from a handicapped person? Come on!"

"Well, we figured, if someone's stupid enough to leave their goddamned window open then they deserve to have it stolen. Teaches them a lesson. And besides, old people lose shit all the time. The registry hand out replacement stickers like they're candy. Don't worry, it's a victimless crime."

I was relieved when our visit to the Mall was short-lived and didn't seem to involve any lifting of merchandise, but then again I was probably missing something. When Leelee used her credit card I half-expected the sales person to say: "Thank you for shopping at Filenes, Mrs. Mandlebaum" but, thankfully, that wouldn't be the case on this day.

Some time later, I heard that Leelee was moving to Florida to take a teaching job there. Despite her new lifestyle we'd always been close so I called her to see what was going on.

"I just needed a change, you know. And I've always wanted to live close to Disney World. Besides, my principal didn't renew my contract."

"Didn't renew your contract? Why not?"

Leelee started to cry: "I don't know. I always do my best and she gives me the toughest kids. She's always had it in for me. I'm heartbroken"

"Did you ever ask her why she did it? You know, to have some idea what her problem was."

"She would never tell me why. I even I broke into her office to have a look at my personnel file--to see what she had on me. But there was nothing there. It doesn't make sense to me."

"You broke into her office?"

"Yeah, it was during open house. The janitor saw me going in but he likes me. He won't say anything."

"So, yeah, um, well good luck in Florida."

"Oh thanks. You should come down to Florida to visit. We can go to Disney together. It'll be fun. I know where all the great shopping is too."

"That sounds great. I'll definitely do that." I hung up the phone and paused for a moment to think about the Leelee I had known for so many years and wondered how she was doing.