A conspiracy theory of the fentanyl kind

Update:  A call came in from the parent company of Canada Safeway:  Sobey's Loss & Prevention manager this afternoon (Mon Jan 30 2017) to follow up reporting this matter.  It sounds like the person needed some allergy medication and was short the cash.  Regardless, we should all be vigilant reporting odd behavior to avoid prices climbing due to employee fraud or theft.

If you've read my blog at least once before, like most of you here right now, you recognize that I am an avid reader, knowledge junkie who is testing her writing and learning as she moves along into the #soME (aka social MEdia).

 I have never written or bitten into conspiracy theories.  The closest I can admit is a devotee of JFK and Marilyn Monroe conspiracy folklore, or truth, one can never decide whether it is fact or fake, fiction or folklore.  We can agree that conspiracy theories are what legends in viral social media attention are dreamed of.    This evening, I have one of my own.  Not experienced first hand, but vicariously to my anchor and steadfast "Hunkster Hubster" Rob.  This is when I favor the New York Times font that bespeaks serious journalism and trusted credibility.  

After a beautiful weekend the past two weeks, with family, birthdays, anniversary, it is pretty quiet this last January of 2017.  I bid "adieu" to you.  With the mindset and blogposts revolving around mindfulness and being present.  Perhaps I'm ultra tuned into the moment because of that.  

Nothing unusual when the Hunkster Hubster heads out to do our weekly grocery shopping:  whereby I am forever loving that he likes to get the groceries.  For fear of a detour that I may take, coming home with a couple of extra shopping bags from the ungrocery kind, he shoulders on every week faithfully with this task.  I'm at peace at home with our faithful hound and companion Buddy, able to click on these keys uninterrupted or distracted from the quest I am on:  putting words to thoughts to expunge them from my mind.  A mind that can get cluttered with ideas or memento scribe to capture the idea machine that is what my brain fosters up, never quite quiet as the evening wears on.

Rob comes home and looks mighty strong, as he can carry 4 or 6 bags at once, to remind me how impressive that is.  What is not unusual to this story either is the fact that he has this tendency to proclaim what he will accomplish this day, to be later forgotten as he slumbers away as the afternoon wanes.  

He always comes up with decoys to distract me from paying attention to the fact that I am putting all the items away and dinner started, waiting for the finishing touches he will gather asunder and bring home.  Today, it was he said he wanted to call the local Safeway (only payment will have the name removed, as I become TRUMPed up in the capital world).  Apparently, my calm, steady husband made an observance that was so that he was disturbed.  He said he watched the cashier, with a black apron on, and an avid description should the Calgary Police Service would want to investigate, after the company does, whom he was assured would be following up.  (We will have to see won't we?)

The cashier leading star in this sega was trying to secretly pull out a slip of paper and scan it and sneak back into her pocket.  It registered with him that the scan gesture was odd, so he took careful notice, looking at the screen where he saw some sort of allergy medication appear.  (Neither of us need any sort of allergy medication, nor was it on the list that this time I did write up.)   

He observed this quietly and then it was apparent that the starlet realized she'd been watched.  Thinking, like most people doing something dishonest do, that she was free and clear.  She slipped that bar code on cardboard or whatever it was and he noticed a red amount signifying subtraction on the screen.  

Upon returning home, it was curious and curiouser that the item that was scanned and removed did not appear on the bill (a factor some techno guru devised, without comprehending that something considered for convenience could be twisted into something of crime).  

He called the store and immediately reported it after asking to speak to the duty manager, who took in the details, with a promise of follow up within the next 24 hours (we shall see, right?)

We are known to watch some great movies and I am a fan of thrillers and novels that snag me for hours.  We started to exchange ideas on what the scan meant:  was it outright theft?  This woman is scanning things in on to unsuspecting patrons bills, where how many actually review each and every one?  (Certainly, the customers I bravely face every day in my quest for loyalty and retention wouldn't hesitate I can guarantee you.)

"Well, no" Rob protests:  "I didn't pay for my purchase with cash, so she can't be skimming from the cash register because all the money has been accounted for, even if not the smucks who are scammed, with payments by credit cards or ATM receipts.  

"What about Fentanyl?" I jazzed up and asked.  Thinking out loud in a fashion James Patterson may consider a worthy plot:  How do you get an arsenal of ingredients for Fentanyl without setting off alarms by large volumes?  

The plot thickens in my own mind.  Why not be a cashier at Safeway, and scan in products fictiously that can be emptied off the shelves because they were scanned, paid for by a number of unsuspecting people.  A fair exchange of trust with deceit? That remains to be seen, read or heard about.  Or a great plot for the book that everyone will write in their lifetime, waiting for the turn of the engrossing pages.

I will be sharing this post with the Calgary Police Service, Canada Safeway, and a couple of notable Canadian news media outlets for online content.  Maybe someone will pay me to post this blog and follow the story, in a journalistic spirit of freedom.

Those we have known merely by name
Setting the world afire with the flicker of their flame

Those who have been weakened by fame
Weakened by addiction where they don't know their name

Long lost souls collectively mourned the loss
Addiction is a weary road traveled at great cost


Whitney Houston

Amy Winehouse

Jim Morrison

Philip Seymour Hoffman

Chris Farley

Judy Garland

Heath Ledger

Jimi Hendrix

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