Day Seventy-two - A snowflake fell (and it felt like a kiss)

So, to continue this little litany of larceny that was so characteristic of this part of my life, I'm going to confess to you that stealing toys, tapes or from my parents and grandparents wasn't even the most prolific part of my stealing. No, that was when I stole magazines - usually music or video games mags - and comics. First about the magazines, because they came first. I'd say probably around '91 or '92 at the latest. You know the drill by now, around that time things were bad for us, there was preicous little money for anything rather than the truly essential, and I had a liking of comics and video games that wanted to be fed. And if comics were pricey for me back then, then magazines were even moreso. These would usually be about two or three times the price of a single comic. 

I used to go to a semi-large press center that sold pretty much every magazine imaginable, as well as very few comics and all the newspapers. Though they severely frowned upon it, anyone could just walk in, and read the magazines from off the shelves. Most people, I assume, ended up buying what they were perusing, I rarely did so. Because even for me, buying a magazine wasn't really a priority, not compared to how buying comics really was one. So I'd go there, browse the racks, and then spend some time reading whatever I wanted to. And somewhere along the way I acquired this gray neoprene folder that for some reason I started carrying with me everywhere, usually under the inside part of my arm. I can no longer remember what happened to it, maybe I eventually threw it away or whatever, but that would have been such a cool memento to have kept. I'd inscribe that folder with lyrics from metal songs, and would draw crude versions of metal bands logos on it, it really became such an iconic part of me. It truly went with me everywhere. And I'd noticed some time before that the price tags on the magazines, which had an alarm built into them, were very, very easy to peel off. And on one of those days that I was carrying my precious folder with me, and upon visiting said press center, I noticed that the size of the folder was just perfect for me to place a magazine just underneath it, and as I walked out of the store with a stolen magazine, it would be concealed by the outer side of the folder. So my strategy was this : I'd start reading the magazine I really wanted to take with me, all the while surreptitiously peeling off the price tag. Once that was done, instead of putting it back on the shelf, I'd lay it down where other magazines were, and place my folder on top of it soon after. I'd then read another magazine for a little while, then after I'd kneel down to pick up my folder, and grab the magazine along with it. I don't know how many I took home with me, but dozens for sure ended up coming home with me.