We’re taught early in life to trust our gut, but that doesn’t mean we listen to it.

See why this person may or may not regret not listening to his gut instinct.

Brand new snow shovel

Back in the early 2000s, I was your average 20 something Joe, working, studying, and occasionally buying illegal fun.

I never had much trouble scoring in my hometown, but one time I couldn’t find my usual sources, so I asked around downtown until I met a young guy who could hook me up.

Something didn’t feel right about him.

He invited me to his apartment, which looked normal enough. But once we got there, he said he’d run out of stock and needed to go to his buddy’s place. The way he said that was already sus but I had to see if I was just being over-paranoid. It was only a 10-15 minute walk, and the weather was decent, so I said, fine let’s go together.

When we arrived, he told me to wait outside, two houses down and across the street. I gave him $40 (which would be easily around $100 in today’s money) and settled in to wait. After ten minutes, something felt off.

I walked up to the dealer’s balcony to peek through the windows and saw that all the lights inside were now off. My stomach dropped. I’d been scammed.

But justice was nearby.

I tried the door—locked, of course. They’d clearly sneaked out the back. I shrugged it off and headed home. That’s just how I am; I wasn’t going to start trouble over forty bucks.

On my way back, I passed his house where we went at first so I went up the outside stairs to see if someone was there but just before the door I saw a brand new, high-quality large snow shovel. I didn’t even take a second to think I just grabbed it and speed-walked home.

Boy oh boy, because I’d never stolen anything before, my heart was pounding like crazy and was looking over my shoulder the entire way home like a bank robber with the popo after him.

The real cardio came from the shovelling.

I know this is pretty small stuff for a lot of you here, but for me, it was exhilarating af!

Here’s the best part: for the past 20+ years, I’ve been using that snow shovel a lot, (we get a solid 6 months of winter here) and I when I do use it, I often think of that jerk and grin, muttering “Karma’s a witch eh mate?”

Meanwhile, he probably just got high or drunk with my $40 and lost out on a regular customer who would’ve kept him profitable for years.

Here is what people are talking about.

Because snows rhymes with goes. Bahahahhhh!

No, he bought a memory of pride for every snowfall.

What if it was his dad’s shovel?

I like dark, but this is too dark.

Wow. That’s a lesson.

Another argument to legalize what the people want.

If you enjoyed this post, check out this story about a neighbor who enjoyed rummaging through the trash bins to find things to sell, and the neighbors who put a stop to it.