I stole a fake ice cube from a kitchen display at Marshall Fields when I was 9, and I felt sick to my stomach about it for an entire summer. After that, the thought of stealing anything beyond a kiss or two made me anxious. I don’t get that rush that burglary enthusiasts describe, and I don’t think that ripping off successful stores is an effective way to stick it to The Man.
All that having been said, I have this collection of little spoons. They come from Athens, Madrid, Nice, Berlin, Paris, Barcelona, and all of them are stolen.
It’s customary in Europe to serve coffee with a tiny spoon for sugar stirring or foam collecting, and it became customary during my travels to pocket this spoon at the end of my meal. As a lover of small objects and satisfying shapes, I found I just couldn’t help myself when an adorable utensil was placed in my care - I had to keep it.
And so I ended up with a delightful collection of miniature spoons that I promise won’t get much bigger.
Well, the collection might, but the spoons sure won’t.