I walked into the Holiday on 25th and Hennepin early Friday night, around 9pm, to pick up a pack of gum. Immediately, I noticed an extremely blotto, greasy haired 6'3" indian/native american/hobo (use whichever is least offensive to you, I guess). He was shoving a Grab Bag of chips down his pants, and didn't even care that he was in full view of the door, but you could tell he was trying to slightly conceal his actions from the lone girl at the front counter, to my left, so it's not like he was so drunk he didn't know he was trying to steal.
He walked up to the counter, hurried his two friends--also shitfaced--out the door and walked away.
I debated trying to find a subtle way to let the fucker know that I knew he just shoved a bag of chips down his pants, but what then? If he gets nervous and puts the bag back, would you want a bag a chips that had been resting next to his sweaty balls, even if it was only for a millisecond? I didn't think so. I also didn't really care much for the idea of getting stabbed with a homemade shiv, and I detest talking to drunken fools, even when I'm drunk myself.
Then there was the option of telling the clerk, but she looked a little overwhelmed, and the police have a little more to worry about than a homeless man stealin' a 99 cent bag of Doritos.
So, would you have done something about it?
On the way to the car, I thought, oh man, it would've been great to kick him in the stomach/groin, breaking all the chips and hopefully clipping a gonad in the process , but he probably wouldn't feel it, nor would he care that he was now the not-so proud owner of ill-gotten chip dust.