Nora. Nora Cooper. That's me. I don't know exactly how it happened or what exactly happened. But what I do know is that I am completely and totally fucked.

It all started with me minding my own god damn business. Not doing anything in particular wrong.

Except for the fact I was escaping from the previous mistake of stealing.

I don't think stashing a couple chocolate tootsie roll pops in your pants while flirting with the cashier counts though. You know?

I call that compensation.

Before I start the never ending debate of how chocolate is the best flavour of all time no matter what type of food, let's return to my incredible tale of my inevitable incarceration. Although my incarceration never entitled me to handcuffs and a dingy cell, 200 hours stolen from me by lollipops feels as though you'd wish to be locked behind closed doors.

I was completely sure that the distraction was gonna work too.

But that idiot was looking in the stupid shoplifting mirror thingy checking out my ass before I could successfully stash the 8 extra lollipops in my back pockets. Seriously I had a full proof plan. I scouted. Walked in there a few times remembering where all the mirrors were. Plus I made sure this particular convenience store wasn't too close to home and didn't have those alarms that signal every time a theft occurs. I don't know why they wouldn't have one.

Especially in this neighborhood.

All my plan relied on was that the shithead would have a measly amount of decency. That was obviously a bust.

That over hormonal fuck was a bit too overly hormonal. I didn't think his eyes wandering would ruin my once in a lifetime dream mother fucking dream plan.

2 lollipops in each front pocket. 4 literally in my pants.

I know. I know. It seems extreme. Chocolate is worth it though.

Plus I feel like some spy shit. Seducing an unwilling male. Well he wasn't really unwilling. He didn't look like he got much action. But I can at least imagine. It's great for a confidence boost. I felt like such a bad ass.

Even though we all know this neighborhood had much worse seeds than myself.

Anyways the 8 lollipops that I had unsuccessfully tried to hide were supposed to be equally divided, 4 per cheek pocket. That jackass pervert, couldn't even wait till I at least walked out to take in the grand view of my fine mass of an ass. What a dick. Wrecked my plans.

Oh well. I like to be chased.

I noticed what I assumed to be Fred's breath hitch. He had a name tag reading what I kinda thought was creepy as fuck "Hello, My Name Is Fred". With a deranged looking smiley face hand drawn below where "Fred" was scribbled down.

Fred is such a little shit.

After his breath hitched I clued in that his eyes were no longer on my breasts but on my ass.

I repeat dick...dick...dick in my mind. As you would say tick...tick...tick. Waiting. Waiting for shit to hit the fan. Waiting for the inevitable. The inevitable being who would make the first move.

That who would be me. I bolted.

I muttered "abort" over and over. Throwing in a few "mission abort".

So currently I was making use of my well planned plan that of course included an escape route.