Not so many years ago large department stores didn't usually have security cameras watching the shoppers, and most merchandise didn't have an electronic attachment to deter theft. So, guess what? There was a lot of shoplifting—leading to all the watching devices we are used to seeing around us now.

Now you say, "Oh, so that's how that happened."

When Doug was about 13, 5 bucks was a lot of money to him. And there was this record album he wanted to have. Guess how much it cost? Right.

Hey, why not steal it? Doug thought that all of his peers were out there stealing, 'ripping off The Establishment,' and he thought that he should be, too. Really. He actually believed—remember he was 13—that if he was going to be loyal to his generation he had better be at it, too. Get out there and keep up his quota. For the cause. It was right and righteous to steal back from the Greedy Capitalists!

So Doug planned out his crime. He was in a department store (remember?) that didn't have that much help. It was dingy and not very well organized, not picked up, not well cared for. Everything about it yawned, "Who cares?" Someone had left a stack of the plastic bags with the store logo out in the open. Seeing the mound, Doug got the idea that he could casually grab a bag off the pile, then softly slip a record down into the bag while he pretended to be choosing which album to buy. Clever? Well, Doug was pretty new to crime, but he thought it would work. So he did all the things he planned and it started off well. No bells went off, nobody pulled a gun on him. He seemed to be well on his way to getting out of the store with an early album by, he recalls clearly, The Mothers of Invention.

Doug had cautiously slipped the album, now in a store bag, up under his arm and tried out his Innocent Honest Shopper act. He was pretending that he had already bought the album and had it in the bag that he was given when he went through check-out. Was the world buying it?

So far they were. Doug's heart was racing and he was scared. He hadn't stolen before.

(Well, yes, he had. When he was six or so he stole a Tootsy-roll pop in a Mom and Pop store when Pop turned his back. Later Doug felt so guilty for stealing from the nice man that Doug left 2 cents on the counter to cover the cost of the Tootsy-roll pop. As a child Doug just couldn't tolerate the guilt that clanged inside of him like Stravinsky. He couldn't steal even when he could steal and get away with it.)

So as he told me, this was his second career heist, with a good seven years in between attempts. It is easy to understand that he might be rusty. And scared. And he was. As Doug continued towards the registers in the department store with Frank Zappa tucked under his arm he became more and more alarmed. Maybe no external alarms were sounding, but lots of his internal ones were...

But he kept walking, apparently looking much calmer than he felt. Nobody objected. No one even looked at him. Hey, this just might work… Past the registers… Almost out…

It did work. Doug got outside with the album in the bag without anyone challenging him. He pulled it off. He stole the album without being caught. Ha! It was easy.

And he felt—not clever or triumphant. Huh? What's this? He felt rotten. The clang-n-pang of fear was quickly overtaken by a big, full-body buzz of guilt. It felt terrible. He hated it. Here he was loyal to the cause, stealing the album, helping to bring down the greedy capitalists, and nobody caught him and he had been certifiably clever… so why did he feel so bad? This was success! He had pulled it off! What gives?

A Surprisingly Healthy Step

So there is Doug, just outside the doors to the store, with his prized album, safe and successful. And hollow and miserable. So what did he do about that? He instantly planned his next caper.

Unable to tolerate his guilt, Doug turned around and went back in, album still under arm. He was pretty sure that if he got out he could get back in and unsteal the album without getting zappa-ed. Which he also did successfully. Doug went back through all the steps in reverse: slowly, cautiously, back to the record bin, as though he was carrying a legit purchase. Then, looking around, he slyly slipped the disc back into the bin and dropped the plastic store bag on the ground. Then he left the store again, empty handed and more, but not entirely, empty-of-guilt.

Q: My sister has started to get panic attacks. What are they? Where do they come from? How can I help her when she
has them?
—Tom Calm, West Palm.

A: A person is having a panic attack when she is feeling acute fear—like she has been cornered by a big, ferocious dog—but there is no dog there. Big fear is present, and it is real. Her pupils dilate, she breathes quicker, and she begins to sweat. But there is no outside stimulus.

This person is evidently being terrified from within. She may be responding autonomically (involuntarily, in her body) to memories of a past event. Perhaps she was stimulated by a sight, sound, smell or other trigger in her present surroundings that she did not notice consciously, but which connects to a scary time in her past.

You can help calm a person having a panic attack by not panicking yourself. Talk slowly and calmly to her, and see if you can get her to take deeper, slower breaths. It will pass. Sometimes the sufferer feels tremendous pressure or pain in her chest, and in such a case you should promptly seek out trained medical personnel to be sure she is not having a heart attack.

(For more information on panic attacks, see my web site at www.10by10davidloftus.com. There, locate menu item "Is Someone in Crisis?" Click on "If You Are Having a Panic Attack Right Now.")