Sophomores survive encounter with cops

“You wanna steal a shopping cart?”

How could we say no?

The Saturday before Homecoming week, sophomores Eric Wang, Max Vo, Raymond McCarthy and I were deciding how to make a grand entrance for one of our dances in Homecoming. Our ideas ranged from jumping off the roof or over the crowd to  parachuting from the sky. But when the idea of riding in with a shopping cart was pitched, our hearts were set: We had to do it. (We fully intended to just borrow the cart, of course.)

The four of us set out to Safeway. We were rather nervous. Upon arrival, we deliberated over which cart to take. It took a while to grab the right-sized cart, but once we found it, and without any discussion, we ran away as fast as we could, the cart rolling in front of us.

Max sat in the car connected to the cart, Eric sat in the cart, and Raymond and I pushed it. The thrill of a heist had us feeling rebellious, blasting music and waving to passersby, almost practicing for the entrance of our dance.

Although we walked boastfully from Safeway to school, the fear of getting caught for this misdemeanor rose in our guts. We couldn't help but imagine what would happen if our secret got out. We'd be on the FBI watch list, desperately hiding in rundown shacks, unable to get into college. Dodging cops left and right, sacrificing ourselves for one another — I would have gotten shot. Seriously.

After walking around for about 20 minutes, Max had an epiphany.

“Maybe we should ask for permission to take this,” he said.
Raymond and I walked back to Safeway, leaving Max and Eric to guard the cart. I don’t know how he did it, but Raymond miraculously persuaded the a Safeway manager named Carlos into letting us borrow the cart for a week. Shoutout to Carlos.

We ran back to Max and Eric, ecstatic that we had thought to ask. The four of us walked on happily knowing we were no longer outlaws.

It was as though our thinking made it so.

About 10 minutes away from school, a passing Prius pulled over, and a young Asian man stepped out and walked toward us, an evil glint in his eyes.

“Did you steal this shopping cart?” he asked.

We told him we had gotten permission. He didn’t believe us. He smirked malevolently, took out his phone and made a call.

“Hello. My emergency? There are four dangerous teenagers with a stolen shopping cart.”

A few minutes later, a police car appeared. As the cop got out of his car, he immediately called for backup.

We started to panic, wondering how we would explain to our parents that we needed a ride home from jail.

Once the second officer arrived, they asked us about our situation. Raymond took the lead, explaining how we had actually gotten permission to take the cart and hadn’t stolen it. The deputy called Safeway to check, but there was no answer. Luckily, he believed us.

Once the whistleblower realized we weren’t getting in trouble, he scurried away, presumably searching for other teenagers to bust for whatever they were doing. The cops took Raymond’s information, saying they would contact him if anything suspicious came up. Of course, nothing did.

Only after reaching the school did we realize that if Max hadn’t told us to get permission, we might have actually gotten in trouble. Laughing about how close we were to getting in trouble, we stashed the cart away in the staff lounge until the Wednesday of Homecoming week, agreeing to return the cart to Safeway the following  Saturday.

Once our performance on Wednesday came, we could tell from the cheers of the crowd that our near-arrest experience had been a good idea.

And then some kid jumped over some other kids or something — I don’t really know; I heard it was OK.