Pity, contempt, anger,pride, shame and revulsion.

I popped into my local city centre this afternoon. While I was there I saw something that filled me with all the emotions above. And it was such a petty little thing.

We have several charity shops in the city. Lots of good bargains and things its impossible to believe that people bought in the first place. My favourite is a bookshop that is supporting a hospice.
I was in there, browsing as usual, not really looking for anything but enjoying the shelves and shelves of books.
As I turned I saw a man in his 60s move sharply away from a shelf and into a corner. I didn't think anything of it and carried on. The battered plastic bag he was carrying rustled, then and he turned past me, and headed out of the shop, not stopping at the desk. As he left I looked at the shelf he had moved away from and there was a large space where a book had been, and it dawned on me as to where it was. It was in his bag.
I wanted to say something, but wasn't sure enough. I left the shop and walked in the direction I'd seen him go. He was in the Oxfam shop a few doors down. He was heading for the door, from near a shelf, his hand in his bag, not stopping at the till. Then on to a third shop. I followed him. He went in, and I stopped at the window.
I realised he'd sussed I was watching him as he stood inside the door for about 20 seconds holding it shut. Very odd. I went into the shop a few moment later and kept an eye on him. He kept an eye on me, and didn't do anything.
He left, and so did I. He was outside yet another shop, but turned away quickly when he saw me. I walked up to him and said "I saw you."
"I didn't do anything!" he said, which I thought was a very odd response from someone who hadn't done anything.
"Its pretty low stealing from charity shops, isn't it?" I asked him.
"That's the sort of thing you would do!" he replied - again, not the response I'd expect.
"Should I call the police?" I asked him.
"You want to watch what you accuse people of." He turned and walked away.

I returned to the hospice shop and told them of my suspicions. They were grateful for letting them know, I'd have gone into the other shops too - but I hadn't seen anything for certain, and the time between his visit and my arrival was increasing. They wouldn't have remembered him.

I guess he steals from charity because its easier. Volunteers, not regular staff, probably no cameras, and they'd probably let you pay rather than call the police. Maybe he thinks that he deserves the stuff, and not the ill, poor, disadvantaged people the shop supports so he's justified in stealing. Who knows.
All I know is he knows I saw him.
I feel pity, contempt and revulsion for him and whatever his bitter, nasty little motive is.
I feel proud of myself for confronting him.
I feel ashamed and angry that I didn't act sooner, and that for fear of making myself look silly, I didn't just call the police.