What do you steal from work?

I don't know if this is really stealing, but every month or so, I turn my keyboard over and shake out all the stuff that's hidden beneath the keys. I then take the resulting pile that looks a little like bread crumbs home and use it as filler in meatloaf.

 

"Stealing" is kind of a crass word. It's more of a barter deal for me. They get my dignity, I get their bandwidth.

 

Steal 'em, just don't sell 'em.

Thanks for the love, man!

My big theft: Bandwidth.

 

Well put.

 

I don't think I've paid for AA or AAA batteries since 1996... In the rare instances where we get good pens, I've been known to walk off with five or six at a time...

 

An abacus.
An electric typewriter.
Green ledger sheet paper.
Carbon paper.
A slide rule.
White-out.
A victrola.

Heh, heh, I don't think they'll ever catch on......

 

Batteries and Bic Clic-Stics. The day I learned I could order boxes of Clic-Stics through the business office was a joyous one indeed. Those things are damn near impossible to find for some reason.
But the company pays for those. I guess the biggest thing I steal is time, although even that's not very often.

 

Now that I think about it, I was accused of stealing several hundred dollars from an employer once. I was working at Six Flags, in one of the park's restaurants as a cashier. Asshole manager rushed me out on break and said I didn't need to put my drawer in one of those mylar security bags. While I was on break, he apparently took about $400 and then quit a few days later.
I'm working one day and the park security (plainclothes guys from the investigations unit, so you know it's serious) comes in and tells me to pack up my shit. They escort me across the park to an office off the main path and question me for about 30 minutes. I had no idea what they were talking about, or why I was there, but I was scared shitless. In training, they made the investigations people sound like the Gestapo. They're always watching, and when they come for you you don't come back. I'd seen people taken away. I like to think they ended up in a concentration camp somewhere behind Bugs Bunny Land.
Anyway, they grilled me for a while and let on what had happened. Apparently I did a good enough job explaining what I remembered (which was fuzzy, since it had been a week or two and nothing struck me as odd on that particular day). They let me get back to work emptying trash for the rest of the day.
I felt like Ethan Hawke walking out of the Mexican gang's house in "Training Day" after that.

 

I stole toliet paper once. It wasn't exactly Charmin soft, either.

 

I didn't buy toilet paper for almost two years. I'll leave it at that.

 

CRIMINAL!

 

There are so many ways to go with that one. Do I grab the low-hanging fruit on Mike's women troubles? Do I ask about alternate uses for corncobs? Do I enquire about bidets? Do I ask if he had an excreme fettish for cheese? I'm conflicted.