I Stole Cold Cuts From Publix & I Still Regret It

At eighteen, I was kicked out of my dad’s house. He’s emotionally abusive and refused to allow me to have any freedom, whether it was visiting my new boyfriend or whether it was just staying in my dorm at college that weekend. He has Borderline Personality Disorder, so I try not to hold it against him. Either way, it came to a head one weekend. I told him I was going to meet my boyfriend at Jaxson’s ice cream parlor in Fort Lauderdale and he freaked out on me.

He’s a 350 pound man and 6 feet tall. He cornered me in my childhood bedroom and told me how useless I am and how selfish I am by not being there 24/7 to take care of my disabled father. He used this tactic all the time to manipulate me . . . Even though he was capable of doing things on his own, he just wanted me to serve him. He cornered me in my room, without a way to exit it and I had a panic attack. Only then, did he leave the room while I was crouched on the ground with my head between my knees to regain control of my body and breathe.

As soon as I could breathe again, he told me to take my pet rabbit and my clothes and he never wanted to see me again. I didn’t really have anywhere to go. My sister lives in Philadelphia and my mom passed away when I was 12.

I packed up a trunk of clothes (Harry Potter style) and grabbed my rabbit cage and started wheeling them down the street. The only money I had was what I used to pay for school tuition. So I was now broke, homeless, and with my pet. I called up my boyfriend, who lived an hour away in West Palm Beach and he drove down to pick me up. It wasn’t the best situation. We had only been dating for six months at that point and he was also a poor college student.

He picked me up and we ended up going to Jaxson’s, where we had a last hurrah with the leftover money I had in my bank account to order sandwiches and ice cream. Jaxson’s is a great spot to hangout because it’s eccentric and they give you popcorn for an appetizer.

Anyway, after that I basically didn’t have any money. I needed to get a job and a home. My mom had left me life insurance money that I could finally receive as a legal adult, but I had to wait several months for the legal process of receiving the money. I began living with my boyfriend and got a job as a face painter, where I received $50 per gig. I only received a few jobs per week, so I was still surviving on poverty wages. One day, I just didn’t have anything to eat. I had spent the last of my money on beer the night before (a bad & illegal decision, I know) and I was starving. I had already lost about 15 pounds since being kicked out because I didn’t have a lot of access to food, I was stressed out, and really depressed because I felt like my dad had just abandoned me after I cared for him for six years. Overall, I felt like I was really suffering and “deserved” something special to eat.

I went to Publix (a grocery store chain on the eastern United States coast) and ordered a ton of cold cuts. I’m talking about Pastrami, Turkey, Roast Beef, American Cheese, Munster Cheese, etc. I chose to order the “cheap” Publix brand instead of the Boar's Head brand because I didn’t want the store to lose as much money . . . when the cold cuts were ready, I simply slipped them in my large purse, pursued the aisles of the store for a few minutes to look like I was searching for something they didn’t have, and then I just walked out the store.

No one looked at me . . . no one suspected me. I was temporarily elated. I ran home and ate some of the food, but I spread it out over the next few days so that we had enough to eat. My boyfriend thought I had just worked an extra face painting gig and that I was able to afford the cold cuts.

It’s been eight years since that happened and I still think about it every time I go grocery shopping. I never told my boyfriend, who is now my husband. I never told anyone. It’s a burden I carry around with me, like the weight of the food on my back as I walked home.