This blog is directed to the person that stole a Hartman Hook from the shop this past Saturday. You are despicable, the lowest of life forms, a wart on the ass of society and I’m being far too kind…...
My husband caught you red handed, palming the hook when my dog barked and distracted him. As he turned back to watch you, he said he is 99% certain you took it. That 1% saved your sorry arse from prosecution, but you and he both know you did it.
I was busy with another customer and a friend who had dropped by and hubby didn’t want to cause a stink in front of them and by the time I was free, you headed out the door and I didn’t have time to get up to speed, be told exactly what went down. If I had known, the feces would have hit the fan. All the frustrations of past thefts would have bubbled to the surface and I would have made an example of you as 17 years of experience let loose.
I would have followed you outside and tapped you on the shoulder for a reality check. The police would have been called and you would have been prosecuted for your immoral ways. Be aware, I have the most incredible facial recognition skills and even though I looked at you for a short time, I’ll remember your mug. Yes a mug, short for mug shot that you should own right now. If you dare enter my premises again, I will kick your sorry ass out my door and let it hit you as I slam it on your backside. If you are suffering financially, steal food, something necessary to support life that can be understood and perhaps even excused by a judge, but a hook?
Your mother must be appalled to call you daughter, or perhaps you were here as a tag team to steal as much as possible. How do you feel that I am painting your mother with the same brush, she may be totally innocent but is under suspicion because of her association with you. How am I supposed to feel about her if she ever comes back to the store? You were both in the back pattern room for a long time did you steal there as well? OMG, how you ruined my happy day!!!!!!!
You took far more from me than my inventory. Besides the $40.00 hook, this is the result of your selfish actions.
My faith in human kind has been tarnished once again. Although most of my customers are honest, wonderful people and I delight in them, the likes of you will stick in my crop all the days I am in business. I will never forget and I’ll be burdened with the memory of you, making me suspicious of other new customers, until I get to know and trust them. I’ll watch people more closely with suspicious eyes and dark thoughts because of you. When someone steals I feel violated, whether I see it done or notice an item is missing that hasn’t sold, it affects me forever. You cause me pain and suffering as surely as if you run a knife through my heart!
You took money from a small business’s pocket. You stole wages from employees and food from my mouth. The only thing I’ll eat now is a loss. I’m not a big mogul that has insurance for things like this.
You made me feel sick to my stomach for the rest of the day. Once again I have to be aware of the terrible things some people do, how the likes of you has no respect, scruples or consideration for others.
Bring the hook back, say you are sorry, and all will be forgiven. I’m not a mean person that holds a grudge after forgiveness is offered. If not, never darken my shop again or face a person that is sick and tired of being sick and tired over the likes of thieves, crooks and criminals like you.
Do festivals bring out the thieves? Perhaps they think they can hide their black hearts in the crowds, blend in with the normal, respectful, honest folk? Last week-end, during the first installation of the Father Christmas Festival, a man and his wife were in. A few years back I saw the husband steal a cutter wheel, put it in his pocket so slick and polished I questioned what I saw. The crime was so blatantly casual my brain wouldn’t accept what my eyes had witnessed. I even saw the imprint of the small round metal wheel in his front pants pocket and the empty space on the shelf and still my brain denied the act.
So he came in this past Saturday and I became his conjoined twin, stuck by his side as if pulled in my magnets, turning when he turned, constantly talking his ear off, leaving zero opportunity to be alone to stuff his pockets with my stuff.
His wife was once again dressed to the nines. Her outfit, shoes and coat probably equaled the value of my entire wardrobe. She barely acknowledged me as she separated from him and browsed the store. It made me wonder if they were partners in more than marriage, perhaps they were a tag team for a five finger discount. She always makes me wonder if her clothing budget is the reason he steals but then I am only making assumptions because by the look of her he can well afford to buy what he wants. So you’ve had your last bit of fun Mr. Mr. If I catch you again I’ll go bat shit crazy on you both.
I’m a nice enough person, kind, honest to a fault, generous and helpful, but the days of being a door mat are over. Just because I design door mats, that doesn’t mean I am one!
Something has changed in me since I turned 50. The naive, pushover that began my life is gone, so if you want to push my buttons I recommend you duck…before the bomb explodes.
My husband caught you red handed, palming the hook when my dog barked and distracted him. As he turned back to watch you, he said he is 99% certain you took it. That 1% saved your sorry arse from prosecution, but you and he both know you did it.
I was busy with another customer and a friend who had dropped by and hubby didn’t want to cause a stink in front of them and by the time I was free, you headed out the door and I didn’t have time to get up to speed, be told exactly what went down. If I had known, the feces would have hit the fan. All the frustrations of past thefts would have bubbled to the surface and I would have made an example of you as 17 years of experience let loose.
I would have followed you outside and tapped you on the shoulder for a reality check. The police would have been called and you would have been prosecuted for your immoral ways. Be aware, I have the most incredible facial recognition skills and even though I looked at you for a short time, I’ll remember your mug. Yes a mug, short for mug shot that you should own right now. If you dare enter my premises again, I will kick your sorry ass out my door and let it hit you as I slam it on your backside. If you are suffering financially, steal food, something necessary to support life that can be understood and perhaps even excused by a judge, but a hook?
Your mother must be appalled to call you daughter, or perhaps you were here as a tag team to steal as much as possible. How do you feel that I am painting your mother with the same brush, she may be totally innocent but is under suspicion because of her association with you. How am I supposed to feel about her if she ever comes back to the store? You were both in the back pattern room for a long time did you steal there as well? OMG, how you ruined my happy day!!!!!!!
You took far more from me than my inventory. Besides the $40.00 hook, this is the result of your selfish actions.
My faith in human kind has been tarnished once again. Although most of my customers are honest, wonderful people and I delight in them, the likes of you will stick in my crop all the days I am in business. I will never forget and I’ll be burdened with the memory of you, making me suspicious of other new customers, until I get to know and trust them. I’ll watch people more closely with suspicious eyes and dark thoughts because of you. When someone steals I feel violated, whether I see it done or notice an item is missing that hasn’t sold, it affects me forever. You cause me pain and suffering as surely as if you run a knife through my heart!
You took money from a small business’s pocket. You stole wages from employees and food from my mouth. The only thing I’ll eat now is a loss. I’m not a big mogul that has insurance for things like this.
You made me feel sick to my stomach for the rest of the day. Once again I have to be aware of the terrible things some people do, how the likes of you has no respect, scruples or consideration for others.
Bring the hook back, say you are sorry, and all will be forgiven. I’m not a mean person that holds a grudge after forgiveness is offered. If not, never darken my shop again or face a person that is sick and tired of being sick and tired over the likes of thieves, crooks and criminals like you.
Do festivals bring out the thieves? Perhaps they think they can hide their black hearts in the crowds, blend in with the normal, respectful, honest folk? Last week-end, during the first installation of the Father Christmas Festival, a man and his wife were in. A few years back I saw the husband steal a cutter wheel, put it in his pocket so slick and polished I questioned what I saw. The crime was so blatantly casual my brain wouldn’t accept what my eyes had witnessed. I even saw the imprint of the small round metal wheel in his front pants pocket and the empty space on the shelf and still my brain denied the act.
So he came in this past Saturday and I became his conjoined twin, stuck by his side as if pulled in my magnets, turning when he turned, constantly talking his ear off, leaving zero opportunity to be alone to stuff his pockets with my stuff.
His wife was once again dressed to the nines. Her outfit, shoes and coat probably equaled the value of my entire wardrobe. She barely acknowledged me as she separated from him and browsed the store. It made me wonder if they were partners in more than marriage, perhaps they were a tag team for a five finger discount. She always makes me wonder if her clothing budget is the reason he steals but then I am only making assumptions because by the look of her he can well afford to buy what he wants. So you’ve had your last bit of fun Mr. Mr. If I catch you again I’ll go bat shit crazy on you both.
I’m a nice enough person, kind, honest to a fault, generous and helpful, but the days of being a door mat are over. Just because I design door mats, that doesn’t mean I am one!
Something has changed in me since I turned 50. The naive, pushover that began my life is gone, so if you want to push my buttons I recommend you duck…before the bomb explodes.
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