Angel and Demon Jeans

I decided on wearing my dark indigo sweater and my new jeans I shoplifted from the small designer boutique downtown to meet Brad, my new friend from work. My top left shoulder near my neck twinged and I felt the weight of my bad demon. She whispered in my ear, "those jeans were so over priced and the owner lady is loaded--two houses, a new Cadillac and an antique 5 ct diamond on her wrinked old finger-- you deserve to have nice expensive things to and there just jeans."

She shifted her weight abruptly and almost made me tip over. To help balance myself, the angle on my right shoulder near the other side of my neck, evened me out. I stood up straighter and stronger. She was dressed in a white dress and looked like a younger verison of me, before I met my demon.

"My lovely," my angel spoke softly, "did you really need those jeans? Couldn't we have gone to the thrift store you love across from Starbucks? Just because someone apprears to have money, like the owner of that shop, doesn't make it okay to steal. You don't know her story."

My left shoulder became hot and the demon who looked like an elegent older verison of me, yelled, "SHE WANTED THE JEANS. THE OWNER IS LOADED--HAS EVERYTHING SHE WANTS. MIND YOUR BUSINESS GOODY GUMDROP." Then popped off the top of my left shoulder, making me wobble to the right trying to catch my balance. My angel floated above my right ear and whispered, "you need to do the right thing," as she disapeared.

I looked at my cell phone for the time and I only had 15 minutes to get to coffee house to meet Brad. I smoothed my hands over my curly brunette hair and sprayed a fragrance called, "Vanilla Dreams" over my indigo sweater.

I told myself walking to my car that I would return the jeans somehow after my date.

"They look so good on you," my pressuring demon said. "You need to pay for them or return them. A money order that you slip into her store's mail box--if you're worried about her pressing charges... " my glowing angel said.

All I can think about is Brad...I'll deal with it after my date, I say to myself as I find a corner booth and sit down. While I wait, my mind races and guilt seeps in. I think about giving that store $200 dollars for these jeans, simply stuffing money into an evelope and putting in her mail slot. I wouldn't get in trouble and I could keep the jeans. It would make things tight for the month and I'd have to eat hotdogs and noodles for the next four weeks. "Ugh," I groan.

A man's deep voice broke my train of thought, "I just walked in and I hear a ughhhh from you? That's not a good sign," he chuckled.

The barista refills our drinks as we are planning our next date, dinner at his favorite Mexican place. Paying for jeans pops in and out of my head. I am torn.

Brad pays and we walk out into the sunlight. He leans over to say goodbye and give me a hug. He tells me that loves my jeans and asks if they were new. I ask him why, and he said, "Just curious. My mom owns a smal shop downtown that I think sells those. I help her unload boxes every week." I tell him that I have been in his mom's store a few times. He nods and tells me I have good taste. I smile and tell him I can't wait until Saturday to go to dinner. He winks and heads down the street to his new black Lexus.

I pull into the open drive-through spot at the bank and withdrawl $200 from my account. I remove the bills, fold them in half and find a ziplock bag that held some stale potato chips, which I dump out in an old take-out bag. I write a note and explain I had a lapse in judgement and I took a pair of pants and put inside the baggy. I run some errands and google what time Brad mother's store closes, 5:00 pm. I wait until 6 pm and walk up to her mail slot and drop in the money and note. I head home. I feel my right shoulder tickle and I know I did the right thing.

Saturday evening, my door bell rings and I welcome Brad in. I am straving and can't wait for this meal. Brad smells of cologne and his hair was just cut. "You look great! I love your hair this way." He winks at me. He holds up an aqua blue bag with his mom's store name printed on it. "For you," he said. I take it and look inside. "I guessed on your size and my mom helped me pick out a few things. I hope you like them."

I am speechless. There are beautiful skirts and blouses and a gray sweater. "Thank you so much Brad." He winked at me and said there is a lot more than that coming my way."

We walked off my porch, hand in hand.