HARTFORD— A man who may have stolen as much as $70,000 a week by slithering beneath theater seats while movies were playing and lifting credit cards from women’s’ pocketbooks was convicted Monday of fraud and identity theft crimes. Anthony Johnson, 49, and a string of accomplices used the stolen cards to collect thousands of dollars in cash advances from Connecticut’s gambling casinos and to make tens of thousands of dollars more in retail purchases in Connecticut and elsewhere, authorities said. On a “good” weekend, Johnson collected $50,000 to $70,000 from the scheme, one of his accomplices testified last week at his trial at U.S. District Court in Hartford. He had to settle for $30,000 or $40,000 on a bad weekend, the accomplice said. The accomplice, who agreed to cooperate with authorities, said Johnson, of Philadelphia, typically worked with women accomplices. They bought tickets to motion pictures likely to be popular with female audiences and chose seats from which they could watch how women in the audience stored their pocketbooks. “Once the movie started, Johnson crawled on the floor, removed credit cards from the stored purses, and returned the wallet to the purses,” according to an FBI affidavit. “Johnson crawled in this manner around the theater until he was done…”

Reading that story I felt like I was reading one of those “I earn $5,000 a day, working from home!” ads. I’m completely dumbfounded. Part of me wants to believe it because I want it to be that easy, but there’s just no way right? I mean how the hell do chicks not notice some dude slithering around on the ground? Theater aisles aren’t exactly a mile wide. I trample all over peoples feet even when they’re well aware I’m coming and do that “half-turn/pretend to accommodate you passing” move. And how the hell did he find shit in women’s purses? If I know anything about ladies and their bags it’s that they don’t have a fuck of a clue what’s inside there. All three times I’ve ever been out with a girl she always ends up “losing” her wallet or cell phone at some point, only to later find that it’s in some deep, dark corner of her purse. Can’t imagine that some random dude would have the blueprint of a purse that he would need in order to find what he was looking for promptly. I want to believe this story. And I know that chicks are usually too busy crying/talking/making loud noises to notice what’s going on in the actual movie, let alone at their feet, but there has to be some part of this plan Anthony Johnson is keeping secret. Which is smart. Because I’d copycat the shit out of him. 70 grand a week is well worth getting covered in popcorn butter, melted Junior Mints, and the occasional cumshot.