In a peculiar twist on job perks, FedEx employee Antwone Tate seemed to have interpreted “handling with care” as an opportunity to add “acquisition” to his job description. Based in the bustling corridors of FedEx’s Memphis Hub, Tate allegedly embarked on a remarkable, if short-lived, side hustle: repurposing misplaced packages into personal profit. What could possibly go wrong? Quite a lot, apparently.
Trouble began bubbling to the surface on May 27th, when FedEx’s Loss Prevention team noticed a disturbing pattern of packages vanishing into thin air. This wasn’t the kind of random chaos a busy hub occasionally encounters; this was sunlight glinting off something shiny—literally. The investigation into these troubling disappearances soon spiraled into a tale of glittery greed and misguided genius.
Leading the secutiry team’s puzzled inquiry was a particularly jaw-dropping loss: an $8,500 diamond ring, sparkling away in some unknown location, no doubt dreaming of finding its permanent home on an adoring finger. Meanwhile, $14,000 in gleaming gold bars had similarly slipped through the cracks, their unmistakable heft apparently not enough to anchor them to reality. These high-value packages had suddenly become elusive as gold-dust, or rather, they were off at a pawn shop enjoying a brief change of scenery.
But Tate’s taste wasn’t solely for the precious metals and stones; he had a penchant for paper treasures too, it would seem. Enter the missing package of vintage baseball cards. Chief among these was a 1915 Cracker Jack Chief Bender and a 1933 Goudey Sport Kings Ty Cobb. Valued at the nostalgic price of nearly $6,800, these cards weren’t just random collectibles—they were the type worthy of commanding a respectful nod from enthusiasts. But where does one unload such prized possessions?
Enter eBay, the modern-day bazaar, where anonymity is as thin as a pseudonym. Under the alias “antta_57,” Tate attempted to convert these collectibles into cash. However, this disguise proved as effective as a screen door on a submarine. When police tracked down the eBay seller, the facade of anonymity crumbled faster than overcooked spaghetti. Alas, “antta_57” tied directly back to our enterprising employee, Antwone Tate, unveiling the not-so-masterful wizard behind the curtain.
Needless to say, the new spin on “special delivery” did not impress the authorities, nor the brass at FedEx. Charged with theft of property, Tate’s triple-headed heist has officially earned him an exit ticket from FedEx, and no amount of frequent flyer miles is going to bring that job back now. Ever the polite entity, FedEx released a statement confirming that Tate is no longer with them and provided a brisk reminder that sticky fingers have no place in their employment script. Apparently, their job training hadn’t included keeping other people’s treasures as a benefit.
It’s not surprising to imagine the bewildering mix of emotions that must have colored FedEx’s halls that day—a cocktail of disbelief, flabbergast, and a reluctant dose of admiration for the sheer audacity. While employers generally appreciate employee initiative, Tate’s creative approach to stock option diversification wins no prizes in corporate circles. And the customers? They were likely left pondering the cosmic fate of products sent out for delivery, their strings of fate tangled in dreams of deliverance and free enterprise.
This peculiar tale of opportunistic employment-ending escapades serves as an eternal cautionary tale against assuming your position at a shipping company as a personal invitation to stash packages into private coffers. After all, in a world that keeps a digital footprint of everything, unwatched parcels are simply not opportunities waiting to be capitalized.
In the wild world of logistics, packages and goodies must reach their rightful owners; anything less fuels an adage as old as time—what goes around comes around, and usually with a stouter price tag than anticipated. So next time your well-timed Amazon delivery misses its mark, and temptation calls toward eBay for salvation, just remember to steer clear of listings from “antta_58.” It’s a small, fascinating world, and someone, somewhere, always keeps the books—especially when there’s glimmering gold in the pages.
