If The Shirt Fits…

(Our restaurant is open late to accommodate the late-night, usually drunk, crowd of college students. This particular night is exceptionally busy due to a now-traditional party weekend created by students a few years ago. As I am wrapping sandwiches, an obviously drunk customer is looking at t-shirts we have on display on our counter.)

Customer: “Hey, how much are your shirts?” *picks one up to look at it*

Me: “They’re [price], but you’ll have to go back to the register to pay for it.”

Customer: “Oh, okay.”

(He continues to hold the shirt while I go back to wrapping sandwiches. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him slowly lower the shirt below the counter and start fumbling with his shirt, trying to stuff our t-shirt into his pants to steal it.)

Me: “So… are you going to pay for that, or just try to steal it while I’m obviously watching you?”

Customer: “Oh. I, uh… I was, uh… I mean…” *puts the shirt back on the counter*

Me: *removing the shirts from the counter* “Right, then. I’ll just move these out of your way.”

(The customer was fine after that, and since he didn’t technically steal anything, and since we were super busy, I decided trying to kick him out wasn’t worth it. The rest of the employees and I just laughed at him for being a poor thief.)