The Ballad of the Beer Bandits

I recently entered a convenience store behind a man who was discretely carrying a plastic bag. As I headed to the Gatorade section of the cooler, this person diverted towards the libations. It was mid-afternoon on a Friday, a bit early by my standards but certainly not an unseemly time of day for a gentleman to seek a beverage of this sort.

He removed a 16oz. can of beer from the cooler, and as he attempted to transfer it into the bag, it slid off the side and hit the floor. The thud drew the attention of the attendant and the impact rendered his booty potentially explosive. Without missing a beat, he picked up the can, cradled it between his arm and torso, and confidently exited the store to his awaiting bicycle that he had positioned for a quick escape. The attendant made no attempt to intervene.

I was taken aback and somewhat amazed by his brazen disregard for the rules of commerce and his single-minded quest for a ration of grog.

Then in today's SJ-R, a Police Beat item appeared that showed that my guy was a mere amateur.

Another beer bandit struck in Springfield over the weekend, one so skilled in the labors of his craft that he made off with an entire case of beer, 24 cans stuffed artfully down his pants. His crime was only discovered when two empty 12-pack containers were found in the restroom and a review of the surveillance tape revealed what the human eye had missed.

I'm not one to idolize criminal behavior, but do I admit to being entertained by tales of reckless and pathetic acts of thievery that are sometimes reported in Police Beat. And it would be amusing to hear these Proud Pilferers of Pilsners being immortalized in Bud Light’s Real American Heroes series of radio ads. But I don't suspect that will happen anytime soon.

There's really no reason for anyone to steal beer in Springfield when they can just find Dave from the Eleventh Hour and hit him up for a fiver. He's forever subsidizing purchases of Old Milwaukee for those down on their luck.