I'm a Tattletale.

While I have three sisters, for the most part I grew up as an only child. I rarely seen my mom,oranyone on her side of the family for most of my childhood, and so far my entire adult life.
I did however grow up extremely close to four of my cousins. My dad and I often bounced back and forth between living with my aunt, who had two kids, and one of my uncles...who had adopted twoofmy cousins from one of his brothers whose life was spinning out of control.
Also,this aunt and uncle lived right next door to one another for several years of my youth.
Age-wise, I fit right in the middle. My aunts two kids are three and four years younger than I, and the kids with my uncle were three and (however older the other one is) years older than me.
Naturally as in the pecking order, the older cousins teased the younger cousins.
I, was typically a really good child. I got good grades, I got anything I really wanted, and never found the urge to really act out or cause trouble. The others tended to get in trouble quite often.
Also, being as some of their lives were.....complicated, and mine seemed alot easier to them, I took alot of flack from them. They'd break my toys, tease me, bully me, purposely hurt me just because it's apparently fun to do. Being as I was close to my dad, I told him pretty much everything. This branded me the "tattletale" of the kids. Granted the younger cousins were bigger tattletails than me, the fact that I hung out with both groups more than the others hung out with each other...I was privy to more information that could get them in trouble. And, I often leaked this information. Not usually with the intention of getting them in trouble, but just the fact that..my dad was...my only friend. So, when I'd tell him things, I half expectedhim to just listen, and go about his day feeling like he'd heard nothing.
Unfortunately, I think I got my being a tattletale from my dad, Cause nomatter what he'd always tell something I'd told him. It caused me many-a-tortured moments. Most of which involved them destroying my toys.
My He-Man doll that got put in the gigantic fan,chopping his poor little head off. My little Starship thingy,that got melted. A slow and painful death.
My Gi Joe figurines...that got thrown into a lake....I watched them either sink....or float away.
And, I won't even talk about the detrimental experience of losing my 3 Minute Ice cream Maker.

In a way, I guess I deserved these things for telling on them. In a way,I want my fucking toys back.
As I've grown into an adult, I'velearned to becomebetter at keeping certain things a secret. I've learned you can't live life telling on people for everything they do. I've also learned that sometimes, telling on people is the right thing todo.

To this day, if theres someone I trust (which is hardtocome by) I'll tell them anything. I'll tell them everything. It's part of who I am, it's part of who I've always been. That will probably never change.

Last night, I was faced with a moral decision.
To tattle, or not to tattle.
Usually in these situations, Imake my decision based on the old "What is in my best interest" game.
And, in this case, it was in my best interest to tell.

Last night, a fellow employee (and staple at the bar, literally...he's alwaysthere) and,the man who got me hired at Ripcord..came in, unlocked the bar that was closed while I wasworking on the other side, put a bottle ofJager in his jacket, and carried it down the street to Caesars.
Expecting to get away with it, unfortunately for him...several people seen him, and knew he'd taken something....just not sure what.
The bartender from Caesars came down after he closed early, and when I asked him (after denying it first) came clean and told me it was half a bottleof Jager, and that this coworker had told him that I gave him the okay to take it. (not true)

Being as,in the last three weeks,there have been two instances on a Tuesday night/Wednesday morning where something had come up missing....I had to inform my manager of what had happened. I already had topay back money that someone else had stole, and I didn't want tohave to go through another debacle.

I love this particular co-worker. He's always been kind to me, and I hold him very close tomy heart. It half hurts me that he'd do that while I was working,and it half hurts me to have to be the one that told on him.
He'll be getting fired,and will havehis keys taken away, and while he deserves that forstealing...it hurts me to be the one that brought this to the owner and managers attention.

It serves me best, to let others know when someone else is stealing...because I can't have people thinking its me.
I guess I could have let it go,and pretended it didn't happen,..however I can't afford to take the blame for someone elses' deeds any more.

I partly feel like a douchebag....because of how much I love the guy.
But it kindamakes you wonder...if you stole that....what else did you steal?

It's about respect. And stealing underneath my nose when I'mgoing to be held responsible for it, is not being respectful to me in my opinion.
The sad part is, I'm probably going to lose my friendship with this person. And...that makes me wish I didn't have to dowhat I did.

*sigh*