Most of my best friends are thieves, of one sort or another. Most of my best friends are also the kindest and most generous people you could ever meet. I’m a thief, and consider myself kind and generous.

I wonder if it comes down to morality. I think we decided that we were outside moral rules, so stealing never felt like a terrible thing. Actually, it was a buzz and proved our remove from society. But it’s more complicated than that.

One of the best cons I ever pulled took place over a hot summer in NYC. It was between my freshman and sophomore years at Barnard. I was poor and young and made friends with a few other people who had stayed around campus to become feral.

We dressed in rags because it suited us. For some reason, we also eschewed shoes most of the time. So this was our scam:

Barefoot, wearing really shoddy ripped clothing:

“Excuse me, can you help me? We were just in the park and someone stole our shoes and all of our money! We have to get home!”

The target asks where we live.

“Long Island! It’s five dollars to get the train and we can’t even walk!”

A conversation might ensue about how we were dressed, calling home, responsibility – but mostly, they just saw 19 year old girls in ripped jeans and torn t-shirts with no shoes.

It almost always worked within a few minutes

A pitcher of beer at Cannons was probably 4 bucks – so, good to go! And then repeat. One day we did this too close to Cannon’s and the target walked in and saw us drinking beer, barefoot in shoddy clothes. We had made enough that day, so we paid him back and invited him to drink with us, which he did.

“Will work for beer.” could have been our modus operandi, but pulling this con just seemed to make life much more interesting.

Stealing is different, in a way, because it’s just you and the object. I used to steal weird things, mementos from someone else’s life. Cheap things, neglected things. The mindset of theft is different from the con. I just wanted a memento when I stole. As odd as that sounds, I bet you can remember going through your parents things and wanting to pocket something. I did it for you. I pocketed small things that I liked and that I knew had no material value.

If I think about it, which I suppose I’m forced to do by stating it, I completely understand the pathology. I wanted to own something. I wanted to own everything.

When I conned, I wanted control and one-up-man-ship. I was great at shoplifting for a time, but I had my morals. Still, every time I handle an object in a store I assume that the proprietor wonders if I might steal it. I still think of myself as someone who should not be trusted.

These days, seeing theft and cons exposed, I wonder what I could be capable of. Nothing along the lines of what corporations do every day. I have been robbed, so I don’t need to steal.

I only have one thing that I steal these days. I believe that it is very justified, and I think you will agree. I shoplift “People” magazine, except I refer to it as “liberating” it. I don’t do it every week – I only do it when it is called for. Like when I have to wait in line.

I liberate it and then I pass it on to others who like glossy covers. All thieves must liberate the things that are most obvious – People magazine is where I end. Or maybe start again.