Thief, Interrupted

Big mistake,
entering the store late
and walking around not certain
of what I want —

I pick up the store detective
almost at once, hovering
one aisle over, his own certainty
about my larcenous desires
a tangible fragrance.

I lead him on.  Lean into
racks of shirts and swivel
my head around.  Duck down
where he can’t see me
and preserve the elements of proof —

dude, I used to do that job.
Not here, but elsewhere, and damn well.
I know you’re cursing yourself; been there,
done that.

I’ll take pity on you tonight.
Catch your eye, smile, shrug.
You look so angry! Isn’t it good
to know I’m not stealing anything?
Isn’t it good to be wrong about

another human being
who is not living up
to your worst expectations?
Are we both this far gone
that this is our Saturday night?