I’ve always thought I would be a pretty good criminal. I think I am smart enough to plan and execute crimes that would reap enough financial reward that I could retire after one or two such attempts. I’ve never followed through though. I believe in the law and justice, as imperfect as we humans have made it. Also, I’m lazy; planning the perfect crime would be too much like work. I could also be deluding myself – maybe I am just as incompetent as most criminals. But I could never be as stupid as one of the ones I witnessed when I was a newspaper reporter in Pembroke, Ontario.

I spent two years working for the Pembroke Observer newspaper, covering crime and the courts. It was a small-town courtroom, but crime is pretty much the same everywhere. Most cases were relatively minor: shoplifting, assault, burglary or driving under the influence of alcohol (though I did cover one murder trial where the police placed listening devices on the deceased’s tombstone. I’ll save that story for another day). The accused were from different backgrounds, but all had one thing in common: they got caught. And there was one young man who hopefully straightened out his life because he was so stupid he had no future as a career criminal.

I don’t think I was in court when he was first sentenced, I saw him when he returned on new charges. His original crime was probably a small-scale theft or assault charge. Small enough that, when the judge learned the accused was employed, the sentence included a provision that it could be served on weekends. Check in to the jail Friday night, check out early Monday morning. That way the young man wouldn’t lose his job. The goal was more rehabilitation than punishment.

However a weekend sentence is just like a regular prison term. When you report to the jail to serve your sentence you surrender your clothing and possessions and are issued prison garb. You lose your freedom. It is not supposed to be a vacation.

This particular clueless criminal didn’t seem to understand that. When he reported to the jail to serve his first weekend he was required to empty his pockets. He had the usual things a man carries: wallet, keys, some coins – and a small plastic bag containing an organic substance. The guard doing the inventory asked him what was in the bag.

“That’s my stash, man.”

Too stupid to know that you can’t bring marijuana to jail with you. It was funny to watch. No weekend sentence when he was found guilty of that one.