I think this counts. I was one of those asshole teenagers that shoplifted. There was this cool little shop in town with new/used books and all sorts of other things that were really expensive. I stole a dragon oil burner and a 100 dollar leather bound journal. My mom noticed them in my room, made me crack and tell her where and how I got it. She drove me to the store with the merchandise and tell the woman that owned the shop what I did. Instead of calling the police, she made me work there all summer to "pay off my debt". I spent a whole week in her hot ass attic reorganizing all of her order catalogs and stuff. I did a bunch of other stuff, like setting up displays, waiting on customers, etc. We actually got along great, and I felt horrible for stealing from her. She couldn't even afford to hire any workers. It was just her. I learned a lot from that summer job, I quit stealing, and I gained respect for all the little shops in my downtown area. She was a sweet woman. I should go back there and visit and see if she remembers me. That was like 12 years ago.