A hand-crafted mirrored mosaic sculpture shaped like a phallus and named “Rihanna” was returned to a Brooklyn bar days after being stolen, highlighting a growing trend of customers pilfering unusual and personal items from restaurants and nightlife venues. The statue, roughly a foot long and adorned with tiles, had been a centerpiece at Whiskey Tavern in Bushwick, where it was used to mark special occasions such as birthdays and breakups.
Alex Kemper, a manager at Whiskey Tavern, located the missing sculpture using a tracking device she had discreetly embedded in all the bar’s similar decorative pieces. The tracking device indicated that “Rihanna” was in Bushwick, rather than Chinatown where the bar is located. After following the signal to a residential building, Kemper traced the sculpture to a door where a woman, who did not appear in security footage, answered. The woman said she found the statue on the hood of a car in Chinatown and willingly returned it.
The incident is part of a broader pattern in New York City and beyond, where customers have increasingly been taking items from restaurants that would traditionally have been left alone. These stolen objects have ranged from a radio in a Williamsburg bar’s restroom to a vintage magazine cover in a West Village eatery, and even a cherished lamb figurine from a Hudson, New York cafe. Some businesses have also lost custom furniture and fixtures, with instances of patrons prying wood paneling off walls or removing decorative sculptures.
Several establishments have sought to curb or embrace this behavior in different ways. For example, at Gosh, a nightclub in Chinatown, owner Jacob Hyman has filled certain furniture pieces with cement to prevent their removal, though items such as branded napkins and soap dispensers have still gone missing. Similarly, Tao Group Hospitality of New York orders large quantities of chopstick holders printed with “Stolen from Tao” as a lighthearted way of acknowledging frequent theft.
Industry experts attribute the impulse to steal unusual or branded items to a psychological thrill of getting away with taking something without being caught. Lloyd Harris, a marketing professor at the University of Manchester, noted that people who would not shoplift in a traditional store might still steal from restaurants because the environment feels less guarded during busy service times. The stolen objects often serve as informal trophies or mementos for the patrons.
For restaurant owners like Cressida Greening of Dolores restaurant in Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn, the repeated loss of authentic decorations has had a tangible emotional and financial impact. Greening sourced many of the items herself on trips to Mexico, hoping to create a warm and personal atmosphere, but after multiple thefts—including a framed print of Frida Kahlo—she has scaled back decorative ambitions and now secures smaller items with museum putty or avoids placing valuables in easily pocketed spots.
In some cases, establishments have tried to take a pragmatic approach by stocking easily replaceable or “decoy” items to satiate would-be thieves. At Bar Snack in Manhattan’s East Village, owners regularly purchase hundreds of plastic cups to replace those taken by customers, allowing them to protect more valuable memorabilia. The bar also sells branded pint glasses to dissuade unintentional theft, while charging fees for replacement of lost menus and glassware.
Despite varied responses, restaurant theft remains a challenging issue for many small businesses, particularly when it involves objects that contribute to the venue’s unique character and sense of hospitality. The return of the “Rihanna” sculpture to Whiskey Tavern offered a rare positive resolution—underscoring both the inventive measures taken by business owners and the unexpected kindness sometimes shown by those who take restaurant property.
