Liquor Store Blues

I turn twenty-five this Friday. All I wanted was a peaceful week. And it wasn’t possible because of my son, who thought it was okay to steal money from another kid. He got caught so now the school needs to see me. Ironic enough, this reminds me of a time during my adolescence when I robbed a liquor store. I was young and didn’t know better. I remember my friend Carlos and I walked into school that day intent on robbing the liquor store. In first period Carlos said, “Yo, you ready? We can’t pussy out man.” And I agreed. We were going to rob a liquor store a couple of blocks away from our school because at least we were smart enough to not do it by our houses. If it’s done near the school, they’ll have to go through tons of students. It’ll never get traced back to us, I thought. We only did it because a few weeks before that, we overheard some seniors, at the time, talking in the quad. One of them started saying, “Aye, anyone that can rob a place got balls.” 

Another one replied saying, “Yeah, Benny over here has none.” And they all started laughing. At that moment, Carlos and I made eye contact. We both knew what the other was thinking. We were going to build our reputation. We wanted in with the seniors. Having senior friends meant senior girls. For two fourteen-year-olds, this was our motivation. And it’s sad to say that now. 

Carlos and I, on that day, wore our biggest hoodies and brought some beanies to put over our faces. We left Mrs. Braxton’s class with thirty minutes remaining in the period. She was too busy freaking out over something at her desk, so it was easy for us to slip out of class. She didn’t notice us leave at all. That woman always had a crisis. Come to think of it she never taught us shit. The other students didn’t see us at all either. No one at that school cared. They said we would all be scholars. And we all knew that was bullshit. 

Carlos and I headed for the back end of school, where we could hop the fence. Considering we were skinny teenagers, it was pretty easy. The fall to the other side felt more difficult than the climb. If we had fallen from any higher, our knees and ankles would be gone because we had no idea how to land. Shuffling through the same backpacks we’ve had since elementary, we took the beanies out and put them on. Even with the beanies on we were no threat to be scared of. We lurked down to the liquor store and made our final arrangements about how it was going to go down. In reality that meant counting to three and going. We ran in. My head turned left, right, left, and right again. You could tell we were amateurs. At the cooler, I grabbed as many beers as I could, shoving them in my backpack. Carlos, on the other hand, had a different strategy. He attempted to make his body appear bigger while walking to the worker. Then, he leaned over, punched him, and took money out of the register. My head swiveled in his direction when I heard the groan. As Carlos made his way for the door, I followed. We ran four blocks to the nearest park. Dropped everything we had on the ground. Sitting there it wasn’t much. It was three beers and fifty dollars in tens and fives. Carlos looked at me and said, “Fuck we hit the jackpot. No way those seniors are gonna talk down on us.” I felt liberated. I couldn’t believe I had done it. It shocked me more that Carlos punched a guy. He was never aggressive to anyone. I guess he committed to the role. 

Even though we got away, I couldn’t help but think Fuck, that was close. That worker knows what we look like. We couldn’t ever go back. 

And now, here I am. Wondering where I went wrong with my son. He’s way younger than I was when I committed the crime. He did do it at school, so I guess there’s a chance it can’t get worse, right? I guess everyone was right, though. Your kids end up two times as bad as you were. Sometimes I feel like I can’t get through to him, but that’s probably how stubborn I was. I realize now how stupid it was to try and win over some seniors who weren’t going to matter later in life. If I remember correctly, when we told them that we robbed a liquor store and showed them the money and beer, they just snatched it from our hands and laughed at us. What a waste. After that, Carlos took a bad hit and went into a way darker hole than I expected. He stopped going to school entirely. And I finished school by keeping my head down. I’m glad at least I never did it again. That was because of the rush. That feeling of getting caught stopped me. But the same rush made me curious. If I could do it again. But somewhere bigger. Truthfully, I robbed the liquor store for many reasons except to get in with the popular guys. I wanted attention. Someone to save me, I guess. I was young and taking care of myself. I needed a role model. Someone to trust. I also think because I had none of that, I got caught up with the wrong person. Carlos should’ve been the friend to stop me from making that decision, but we both craved attention. To fit somewhere in our small world. I never knew it then, but when I looked at Carlos in the eyes, it felt like there was something more I wanted from him. My boyfriend now tells me it was only a phase and that it’s my past. It should just stay there. But I can’t help wondering if he thought the same.