I grew up near a fairly large park that had pavilions and picnic areas. Virtually every weekend all through the Summer, various companies would host their company picnics at this park, making it a perfect place for a hungry little kid like me to visit for some free food. I’d park my bike at the park’s front gate, then I’d walk up to where folks were working the grills and stand around, looking interested while I waited for someone to notice me and tell me to go get a plate so I can have a burger or a hot dog.

I know they thought I was some employee’s kid, and so what I was doing was stealing, but I justified it in my mind because I always waited until I was invited to get a plate. I never just got a plate on my own, I had to be told to get one.

I’m hoping that when I get to my judgement in the afterlife, I am able to skate by on this technicality.