In the world of logistics and parcel delivery, where tracking numbers and precise timing are the toolkit of the trade, a FedEx worker in Memphis appears to have taken “special handling” to an entirely different—albeit illegal—level. Antwone Tate, a man whose job it was to ensure packages reached hungry hands and waiting doorsteps, stands accused of detouring some particularly valuable goods to his own pockets.
Imagine if your workplace perks unexpectedly included an $8,500 diamond ring and nearly $14,000 in gold bars. It’s a daydream that dazzles the senses and tempts the imagination. However, for Tate, #9 handcuffs have replaced the glint of precious metals, and convincing courtroom arguments now demand his attention.
But this is no ordinary tale of modern-day piracy on the seven seas of Memphis. It’s a story punctuated by a signature misstep: When it came time to offload the glistening loot, Tate allegedly opted for the simplest means available, using his actual driver’s license to pawn the goods. Somewhere between dodging the watchful eyes of FedEx Loss Prevention and navigating the path to quick riches, this was a glaring oversight that pointed back to him as surely as contrails hang in a jet-laden sky.
Picture the investigative gears grinding into motion late in May when packages began disappearing, not into the usual sweep of worldwide destinations but into a web of suspicion. The chain of mystery was eventually traced, revealing one key location: a pawn shop, where the misplaced diamond ring and glittering gold bars had shown up almost as if delivered by overnight express.
Yet, every juicy story needs a solid side plot, and Tate’s escapade certainly delivers here, too. Remember when baseball cards had their utility measured in bubblegum sticks and trade-offs during sunlit afternoons? Well, those very pieces of cardboard nostalgia took an unexpected starring role. Lost from the care of FedEx, a 1915 Cracker Jack Chief Bender and a 1933 Goudey Sport Kings Ty Cobb card—dream tokens for any collector—were soon found under the virtual hammer of an eBay account. The seller name? An attempt at anonymity perhaps, but ‘antta_57’ was as thin a veil as a game-day ticket stub. Almost too conveniently, it pointed straight back to Tate’s doorstep.
The aftermath of this three-act drama sees Tate charged with theft of property, that confounding web he wove brought him back to that one inevitable lesson: when your aspirations skew unlawful, the repercussions will catch you, if not in 5-7 business days, certainly in time for the next court date.
FedEx, for its part, delivered a perfectly packaged dismissal of any association with Tate. Their statement, couched in corporate decorum, emphasized a refreshingly classic point: theft doesn’t appear in the employee manual, and “return to sender” was the only remaining option for Tate’s job status.
So, as the curtain falls on this escapade, and as tales of high-risk, low-reward thefts add yet another entry into the annals of quirky workplace grievances, let this be a mental sticky note for the clever minds out there. Should your package’s status hang in shipping limbo, DFS—don’t fret, Sherlock—might not need to be your next move. Just a vigilant eye on eBay might reveal more than you bargained for. But remember, if it’s marked under anything remote to ‘antta_58’, you may want to hold off on those bids. After all, not every treasure is yours for the keeping.
