The fine line between frugal and flat-out pilfering

Sir, help me!” the headwaiter cried.  “I caught Mrs. Abacada-e, pocketing the salt and pepper mills, the butter dish, the Austrian lead-clear crystals, including the monogrammed hemstitched napkins, in a duffel bag she placed under the table; she’s also eyeing the cut-glass vase.  Will I call security?  This will surely embarrass me.”

This scenario has long been commonly played in hotels and restaurants where the service staff is caught in a tight spot:  What to do or what not to do?  They call it the insoluble dilemma of post adolescence.

In short, how do you handle the aged, a.k.a. immovable, obstinate customers and clients who get a thrill out of stealing?  “Mercy me, of course not,” this septuagenarian insisted.  “I’ve been thrifty and practicing frugality all my life so if I can take some things home, why not?”

Ah, the lure of freebies!  Like:  

• TV connection, cable channels and Wi-Fi you don’t pay for.  They are the nakikabit bunch with no qualms in splitting wires so that they can enjoy the high definition broadcast without paying extra.  At times, these boorish neighbors even get a clearer reception than the legitimate subscriber.  What is horrifying is when the cables catch fire because of overload and illegal tapping.   

 • The no-questions-asked return policy.  It’s probably why some local retail stores frown, if not become wary of this position.  Some have mastered the ruse of wearing the outfit for a job interview or for a formal occasion.  She wants to impress.  How?  By tucking the label under the collar or loosely stitching it under the arm.  So long as she returns the clothes with its original label intact, it’s no big deal.  To give it a further ring of truth, she returns the dress in its original garment bag.  “Don’t forget to wear a liner under the armpit so you don’t leave any scent or odor, ” said a veteran goods returnee.

 • Office supplies.  From the company’s bodega or stock room.  Ballpens, paper clips, rubber bands, folders, bond paper, etc.  Security won’t bother to check bags and briefcases and since they’re not metal, they won’t beep either.  “They are so tempting to take home,” said a line employee.  “Besides, they won’t make a dent on the company’s profit.” 

 • Fibbing the donation box.  Don’t broach the idea of an open house for charity where the public is asked to donate a token amount voluntarily.  Watch those who will continue to snob the donation box.  They’d look the other way and take advantage of the generosity, hospitality, and kindness of others. 

• Senior Discount abusers.  An elderly woman was buying bottles of baby food and flashed her senior card.   “I only eat baby food because I can’t chew solids anymore,” she snapped. She said this with a straight face while munching on a chewy, multi-grain health bar.  Hello?  The cashier raised her eyebrows and stared at the ceiling.

Add to this temptation of turning into a Schnorrer, Yiddish term for sponger — the practice of bringing home toiletries, tea/coffee sachets and condiments.  Who’s not guilty of doing this?    

Personally, I like the miniature bottles of olive oil and balsamic vinegar that accompany warm sour dough on board long flights.  When I asked for an extra set — for my granddaughter’s play tea — the stewardess cheerily added mini bottles of red and green Tabasco. “She will like these on her pizza,” she stated further.  They were the cutest bottles ever.

The trick is to ask openly instead of pinching the items when no one is looking. 

No matter how tempting it is, do not lie or gloss over the truth in order to save a few bucks.  It is cheating, plain and simple.  Oh, all right.  It makes you a thief in the guise of an old penny pincher.

Remember the headwaiter and the case of the filching granny?  Since the manager knew the bag woman personally, he whispered in her ear, “Titaaaa, the CCTV captured everything you dumped in your accordion-like bag.  Why not put them back on the table before the head of security reviews the footage on his monitor?”

As quick as a mouse can wriggle out of a mousetrap, she returned all the would-have-been-carted-away items and settled for the sugar-coated almond nuts, the wedding giveaway.  “Boring!” she grimaced.  “There’s always a next time,” she plotted.

Dave Ramsey, an American financial author, once said,  “Forget about taking extras. Think about a future of giving extras. That’s when the real fun begins.”

You see that, Titaaaa?  Next time, leave the accordion bag at home.