The one and only time that I have ever shoplifted was on Christmas Eve day. I was working at Barneys Department store on the third floor in co-op shoes. The Co-op, for those that don't know it, is supposed to be the less expensive department. So shoes are $400 instead of $1000.

For weeks I had been eyeing this hat on the first floor. It was a knit tam: black and white striped with a red ball on top. I was waiting for it to maybe go on sale, as even with my discount it would have been $200.  $200 for a knit hat that kind of looked special needs. And, $200 was way more than what I made a week selling high- end shoes (I never made employee of the month).

Never-the-less, I still had hope. I brought up the hat to the third floor to show my work mates. They all thought it was cute but hardly worth the money. Customers started coming in, so I put the hat down by the register and went out to the floor. It was crazy busy with last minute wealthy shoppers. 

Side note: I did sell shoes to Barbara Streisand that same month.

7:00 came, and as I was preparing to check out and leave, the manager told me that it was starting to snow, so I should put on my hat-she was pointing to the coveted one.  She obviously didn't see the price tag that was still attached.

What could I do? The manager told me to do it; she gave me permission. And…if I did walk out, I was stealing from the "man". It was not the hat of some poor individual. No, it was from the most pretentious of all department stores ever—Barneys.

This is what I said to myself as I walked, with hat on head, past cosmetics and perfumes toward the door.

I made it!

Two days later: I left it at a diner. I realized it about a half and hour afterwards.  When I returned, it was gone. Someone had stolen it. The nerve. How awful that someone would do such a thing. It was just a hat.

jill: "that hat "  (MP3, 3:32)