Ice Heist

We were sent on a mission to find ice for the Spanish Club meeting. We considered the Caf; however, you know how that goes.

So, we ventured up the hill to our old freshman dorm where we knew there was an ice machine. A quarter of a mile later, and a tiring hike up the hill, we found our targets. We followed two unsuspecting girls right through the side door and located the ice machine.

We sanitarily stuffed our plastic Wallmart bags with ice. Loads of ice. We busted through the doors, our hands beginning to bite the frost, and we headed back to the party. After 3 minutes of walking, half of the ice had melted and we questioned our outlook on life.

People did judge us indeed. But our heist was a success, and that is all that mattered.

We heisted ice. We are con-artists in the making. We have ice.

Yes, during my first months as a freshman in college, I was afraid of pickpocketers. Notice, I still never leave my Vera id/wallet to reserve my seat at the table when I go get food because of this great fear: fear of the knowledge I have because of my personal observations of other heisting and would not like to be the target.

I would like to, as a social experiment, go around the Caf and take backpacks, wallets, cellphones, and whatnots just to prove how easy it is. People are too trusting. Trust no one. Except me, because I have a huge conscience. Except when it comes to food that I've already paid for, then I'd be more than happy to take a few extra bagels, bananas, and cookies to go.

Take it or leave it, but at least think about it when you leave your things with your "fellow comrades and fellow students."