You know that age-old adage about the grass always being greener on the other side? Well, for Antwone Tate, a FedEx worker stationed at the Memphis Hub, greener pastures meant a treasure trove full of sparkling jewels, glittering gold bars, and coveted baseball cards. Move over, ordinary nine-to-five; Tate was busy plotting his getaway scheme into the flashy world of stolen valuables. But like an episode of a poorly planned heist, everything came crashing down in the most cliché way possible.
Tate allegedly believed that his FedEx job came with an inbuilt perk of “finders keepers.” Suspicious package disappearances on May 27 flagged him like a bright red target. It was an elaborate, albeit sloppy, game of hide and seek—one where Tate sought out packages that carried intriguing booty. The most blaring of the missing items were an $8,500 diamond ring, gold bars worth nearly $14,000, and an enviable stash of vintage baseball cards that could make any collector reach for their smelling salts.
How was this operation busted, you ask? Well, it seems that Tate didn’t attend the “Smart Thievery 101” classes—or maybe he just slept through them. Following the investigation into missing packages, officials scooped up the scent—a lure as unmistakable as a cologne advert for the wealthy—and traced it straight to a local pawn shop. In a move straight out of a comedy of errors, Tate had nonchalantly pawned the items, thinking that using his own driver’s license would be as invisible as a magician’s act. Note to future heisters: It’s a terribly weak disguise.
Adding to the FedEx worker’s tale of bungled larceny were packages containing baseball nostalgia, missing with unabashed boldness. Among the cardboard casualties was a 1915 Cracker Jack Chief Bender and a 1933 Goudey Sport Kings Ty Cobb. These weren’t just cards—they were legends in cardboard chronicle, and it’s said they have a collective value of about $6,800. Again, law enforcement traced their prodigal journey into the hands of many an eager buyer on the e-commerce giant eBay.
The plot thickens as the seller’s account name popped up like a ghost of confessions past. “antta_57” should have been spelled out as “iamguilty_100”. Needless to say, the virtual paper trail led directly back to the irreverent purveyor of all things purloined, Mr. Tate himself.
Of course, this modern-day Pilferer of Packages isn’t sailing into the sunset with his loot; he’s now on the wrong end of a charge for theft of property. FedEx has since parted with Tate in the corporate equivalent of a stern paternal “you’re grounded, for good.” They issued a statement, brisk and clear, ensuring the public knows that pilfering precious items is officially not in line with their job description.
From cashing in a diamond ring to unloading historical baseball artworks at a variable “buy it now” price, Tate’s side hustle reached an unsophisticated end. Let’s not even pretend that this story doesn’t serve both as a cautionary tale and a weirdly aesthetic package tracking plot—consider it a real-life interpretation of what not to do when your day job just doesn’t cut the mustard.
Future delivery service employees, take heed—when a package says “signature required,” it might just be telling you that illegal signatures are not going to cut it. As for those of you waiting on a delivery with anxious anticipation, next time your package confirms “out for delivery” and vanishes into thin air, you might just find it circulating in the wild, wild web of e-commerce. But beware, lest ye be entangled in an internet drama worthy of a FedEx thriller, a reminder to never place a bid on auctions by anyone that might sound remotely like “antta_58.”
Tate’s theft was less a sophisticated heist and more a bungling of basic criminal know-how, right from unintentionally leaving bread crumbs leading to his own undoing. From the driver’s license blunder to the self-incriminating online presence, the caper might not get an “A” for competence, but it’s surely making waves for its plain absurdity, making it a tale to be recounted for posterity.