On Black Friday (just a regular Friday in the Bahamas), I decided to run home from work. The distance from the front door of the research institute to my driveway is 5.3 miles. I wanted to do 6 miles total, so when I came into my settlement, I took the back road to add some miles. Because the distance from our settlement to work is so long, we have a shared shuttle service between the two locations. I had asked a friend to take my backpack home and set it outside my door so it would be there when I got home from my run. On the side of my backpack, I had stashed my hot pink, Old Navy flip flops (this is important, including the color) in the side pockets of my backpack, stuck the bag in the van, and headed home.
The shoes that started it all
When I got onto the back road, I saw a pair of small, hot pink flip flops (I wear a size 6) in the middle of the street in front of the building where some of my coworkers live. I figured that my shoes fell out of the van when someone was getting out, so I picked them up and carried on with my run. Instantly, two local boys are chasing me yelling "Those are my shoes!!" These kids are always knocking on our doors asking for chocolate, money, or other items, so I just assumed they were hustling me. I yelled back "No! These are my shoes!" and they kept chasing me. The older one finally caught up to me and said "Lady, those are my shoes!" To which I responded, while still running, "No, these are my shoes, now leave me alone." He finally let me keep running, but he looked defeated.
Me trying to avoid the children and take "my" shoes
I rounded the corner and headed to my house. I ran up the stairs to my apartment door and my stomach dropped: my backpack was sitting outside of my door, complete with my small, pink flip flops in the side pockets. I had stolen that child's shoes.
I immediately sprinted down the stairs and another quarter mile before I found the boy. I gave him back his shoes and apologized profusely. He simply took the shoes, looked at me, put them on his feet, and walked away. I felt AWFUL and hoped he didn't get in trouble with his mother. I can just imagine how difficult, if not impossible, of a story that would have been to believe when her son told her why he was shoeless.
Later, I told my friends about the incident, and multiple people responded "OH! So that's why they were asking me if I knew that lady who was running with no shirt on. They said she stole their shoes." I was running in my sports bra, so that shirtless, shoe thief, was me.
Have you ever gotten into a situation like this?