Death Before Dishonor:  The Yoohoo Bandit

I am going to take this opportunity to welcome you to a new series I am putting together.  I think it will have five entries, but if I think of others, it will grow as needed.

The title of said series is, “Death Before Dishonor”.  It is going to allow me the chance to make all of you think less of me.  I know that after showing a Picture of my balls earlier this week, it can not really get much worse.

This new series is going to relate stories throughout my life that show my ability to deceive and connive in order to keep people from recognizing my stupidity or otherwise ridiculous behavior. 

This first story dates back to my Senior year in High School.  A much simpler time.  A time where I spent a good deal of my non-school moments jockeying a cash register in a convenience store across the street from the very High School I attended.  It was not the most inconspicuous of locations for such a pride-less job, but I was not very bright in those days, and I could swipe free cigarettes. 

I guess I started out on an untrustworthy note by lying about my age to obtain this vaulted position.  You have to be eighteen to sell beer, but I was only seventeen.  It’s was not an elaborate or brilliant ploy I used.  She asked how old I was and I said eighteen; she gave me my yellow and blue smock and told me to go mop the shitter.  I showed her who was smarter.

After I had been there for a few months several of my fellow employees started finding empty Yoohoo bottles in the display cooler.  Several calls were made to the distributor accusing them of shipping us empty bottles mixed in with the regular ones.  I believe accusations were thrust upon the unsuspecting delivery man as well.

Every week new methods of detection were deployed.  Every new Yoohoo shipment was thoroughly checked; the next day in the cooler, empty yoohoo bottle.  People were watching the cooler in the back of the store; still empty yoohoo bottle.  The Yoohoo was singled out and moved to a cooler closer to the counter; still empty Yoohoo bottle.  Nothing was working.

The manager was going insane.  How could some one be ballsy enough to drink an entire bottle of Yoohoo IN THE STORE and then put it back in the cooler?  How could her dedicated staff of minimum-wage minions not see them committing this atrocity?  Why Yoohoo instead of the Colt 45?

That last one I can answer first.  I was uncultured at that tender age and did not like malt liquor.

But I did love me some Yoohoo.

That’s right, in case you did not see it coming, I WAS THE YOOHOO BANDIT!

To appreciate the intricate workings of such a deception, you must first understand the finer points of a modern (at least in 1990) convenience store.  There is a reason you never see anyone putting new beverages into the cooler.  The coolers are loaded from the back.  Behind the cooler is a much larger icy-cold cooler that stores all the extra beverages.  Someone has to go into that 40 degree wonderland and put all those delicious beverages into their designated slots.  Being the youngest, newest, and only penis bearing employee, I was always forced to do that awful task.

This cold and demeaning task did have it’s advantages.  I was a portly young thing so the cold did not bother me.  I would sit in there for hours at a spell, just killing time.  After a while, sitting in a large ice box makes a growing boy thirsty.  Sitting on a couple of cases of Yoohoo is too much temptation for a growing, thirsty boy. 

But, what to do with the empty bottle?  I could not carry it out into the store.  Out of desperation I decided to load it into the front slot with the rest of the Yoohoo, but out of laziness, I forgot to go back later and pull it out from the front when the coast was clear. 

The first time it was found my coworker was bewildered but laughed it off.  That worked well enough, so I decided to do it again the next day.

The second and third times it was spotted, my coworkers were troubled and called over the manager.  You have to keep in mind that not much really goes on in a convenience store, unless you get held up, which I was...Twice.

That would begin the huge internal investigation, complete with official naming of the “Yoohoo Bandit”, strategy meetings to discuss capture, and rewards offered for the one to catch him (or her) chocolate handed.

After all that how could I be expected to stop.  It was too much fun, and I certainly could not tell them the truth.  I did not really care about getting fired.  I just did not want to be known as the weird, chubby kid who sat in the cooler drinking Yoohoo. 

I also would talk to the customers as they unsuspectingly opened the cooler to grab a drink, frightening them, but that is a different story.  Next time you reach into one of those coolers think about suddenly seeing a pimply, fat kid behind the Coke saying, “You should drink Pepsi.”

Weeks went by and to everyone’s dismay no Bandit was ever apprehended.  Suddenly the finding of empty Yoohoo bottles ended, and everyone forgot all about it. 

Have you ever gone four weeks drinking a Yoohoo every day?  It gets really old after a while. 

No one ever mentioned to the manager that now they were finding empty Mountain Dew bottles in the cooler.  We all decided it would just make her call more meetings and yell at everyone about not watching the store properly. 

•   Comments(5)    Posted by killer on 10/25 at 10:55 PM
•   Digg   del.icio.us   Fark   StumbleUpon