Entertaining Story

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Description

This audio file is from a project I was contracted for where the author was looking for a very sarcastic read style. He chose the title for the file. Hope you enjoy listening to it as much as I enjoyed recording it.

Vocal Characteristics

Language

English

Voice Age

Young Adult (18-35)

Accents

North American (General) North American (South West - Texas) North American (US General American - GenAM) North American (US Western)

Transcript

Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
the dumb *** shoplifter by T A ridge in a certain department store in Dallas, which was founded in Arkansas, I encountered one of the dumbest shoplifters I had ever seen across from the women's shoe department. Where I worked was a handbag department at the time in which the crime was to be committed. It was July in the stores having a clearance sale in all departments. In my department, there was a forest of metal racks with row after row of women's shoes on them. In the handbag department, there are about a dozen tables, each covered in a jumbled pile of clearance. In reality, clearance was a time to get rid of the buyers abysmal choices and products. But no one said that seconds before the crime is about to happen. I was standing in the middle of the women's shoe department minutes ago. I had finished with one of my clients and was now looking to pick up another customer. All of a sudden, across the aisle in the handbag department, I heard a frantic but familiar voice yell to me, He's stealing the bags. It was Angie, a redheaded middle aged woman with whom I was good friends looking where Andy was looking. I turned my head to write. Just as a shoplifter emerged onto the ill, he was now heading toward them all. Back in the day when this happened, it was normal for a sales person to chase after a shoplifter. This responsibility was usually given to the mail that was nearest to the shoplifter. Wally, an old shoe dog I worked with it told me that when he was young, it wasn't unusual for a salesman to tackle, fight and hold the shoplifter until the police came. Then, he told me around the late 19 seventies, the policy of fighting with shoplifters have been changed due to the threat of lawsuits. In the early nineties, when I was working at this department store, the policy concerning shoplifters was pursued the suspect and then follow them to their car and obtained their license plate number. You would then go back to loss prevention, and they would call the police the chase. As I pursued the shoplifter, I observed that the suspect was a very fat white man of his early thirties. He was balding and had a very pronounced comb over that was losing its grip. He was wearing a neon yellow polo shirt. There wasn't doing a good job of covering his bulging stomach. He was wearing pink shorts toe look like they were about to bust open from too much tension. Lastly, he was wearing a new pair of bulky white sneakers that were too big for him. Hanging from each of the corners of his elbows were six large handbags. Half of them were hobo bags, while others were doctors bags as a shop with her cruise down the mall, the bags were hanging from the inside corner of his elbows were radically jostling back and forth. It was surreal. He had a very sad sight to behold. I shook my head in pity it wasn't very hard to pursue the shoplifter. Bless his heart. This dumb *** was slower than those 80 plus small walkers that we will all see in the morning at any mall in America. With my long legs and a casual stride, it took me only a few seconds until is about 30 feet away from him around him. People who were going about the moan different directions were looking at him universally. They all looked at him with raised eyebrows. They knew he was stealing. They would then do a double take that lasted for a couple seconds. But then, as they moved a certain distance away for him, they were resumed their journey. I guess they figure that someone such a small security or the police would take care him. About 50 feet into the chase, I was starting to feel like a police cruiser that was following a suspect in a riding mower on the freeway. Just then, the thought entered my mind. It don't on me that right now one of my good clients could be looking for me as a shoplifter was starting to head to the open section of the mall. I rolled my eyes, shook my head and yelled out, Sir, just give me the bags and come with me. You might as well just give up. We've already called security. It took about two good seconds for the shoplifter to turn his neck and body around. Yes, he was that fat. For a moment. He stopped in his tracks as he looked at me, his eyes grew big and his big head reeled back is double chins jiggled, I felt as though I was looking at some old character of Warner Brothers cartoon trembling, shaking his head and breathing hard, the shoplifter eventually turned around, resumed his flight several yards later, just a few yards behind him, I muttered as I rolled my eyes. Oh, Lord, I then yelled. I shook my head. Sir, I'm going to follow you to your car and write down your license plate. The police will just arrest you at your home. I later found out that the perp didn't have a car. His plan was to use a public bus for his get away seriously, periodically to check on the progress. He turned around enough for me to be in his field of vision, and after each time you turned back, he would attend to lose me by very slowly veering to the right. We're veering to the left. Somehow I kept up with his maneuvers, thinking of the commission I could be losing and now only two yards away from him, with a frustrated tilting my head, I yelled, sir, just let go the bags and I would just let you go, briefly turning around when the perps saw how close. I was his head tilted back in. His face exploded in shock. Quickly turning around. He attempted something he hadn't done before. He began to jog, though not as fast as a jogger. He was now moving up to the speed of a mall walker. The handbags were quickly swinging back and forth like the bells of a church tower, making slightly longer strides. I caught up with the perp. Once again. I was only a couple of yards away from him. We were now heading toward the food court. In a slightly more dramatic move to lose me, he veered to the right, Catching onto his maneuver, I moved four steps to the right. He was now directly in front of me again. Once again, he turned to see the present status in my advancement. Before I could open my mouth and warn him with a loud thud, the shoplifter ran into a pillar. He glared back one too many times. I'm muttered, idiot! With his bags still on his arms, he fell backwards, landing on the tile floor. His back and his head took most of the impact in our lay there, with his mouth open, unconscious to the world around him. You look like a damn beach whale getting down beside him. I checked his breathing. It was labored. Then I briefly put my head to his chest. His heart was understandably beating fast. About a minute later, the security yards came. Both were guys, one was fat and one was skinny. They have been on the hunt for the shoplifter. Still on my knees beside him, the chubby guard asked, Did you take him down? Getting up? I looked at the fat security guard in the face and said, Nopa, I didn't take him down. The dumb *** ran into a pillar when I was pursuing him. Just then, as both men burst into laughter, a couple of mall walkers who had witnessed the crash into the pillar cooperated my story. I later learned from the fat security yard that the shoplifter woke up in the hospital with a doctor, a nurse and a cop. I learned that the fat shoplifter had a very long rap sheet. I also learned that in jail he tried to get a lawyer to sue them all for the pillar he ran into. His reasoning was that there should be some type of sign that gives a person warning when a pillar is in one's immediate vicinity. He didn't get very far with that. So I learned from the fat security guard that the shoplifter mode of transportation for his departure from the scene of the crime was a public bus. If you decide to embark on the criminal lifestyle involving dashing, grab here a few tips. Have a car, have the car outside the nearest door of the place you're going to steal from, not across the whole freakin mall. Have someone gunning the car. Have fake license plates on the car. Aim high. Don't steal clearance items. Dumb ***. Steal something people will want. Don't be fat if you're going to trans verse a long distance. Don't wear bright colors that could be seen by airplanes at 18,000 feet up, and lastly, watch out for pillars