called out

I totally got called out. Malcolm and I like to hit the spaghetti factory on thursdays since they give this curry soup we love.  It's pretty much the only lunch we leave the office for. I'm packed in the carby goodness that was my cheesy spaghetti, had my scoop of ice cream and paid the check. Me: "I want this pen..." It wrote so nice, not like the crappy bic's and such we have at the office. Zoink!   In my pocket it went.  And if you know me, I'm not a very sneaky person.  I'm pretty obvious about such things.  I wanted it...  and that's all there is too it. We're leaving and the waitress comes back to the table for one last collection while we put on our coats and leave.  From behind I hear, "Hey, did you steal my pen!!!" Yes, yes I did. So I feel my pockets not remembering which of the cargo short pockets it went into. "Oh, maybe you didn't.." she admitted. "No, here it is!"   I gave it to her and held my smirk and laugh until I was out the door. Malcolm laughed, "You totally got called out." "But I really wanted that pen!"  *pout* Why do the crappy pens with doctor advertisements always write the best?