And there’s nobody to tell the story to at home.
Or IM.
And I can’t call anybody at this hour to tell them my armed robbery story.
I feel the need to tell somebody . Not sure why.
So this is what happened. I went down to Blockbuster, maybe half a mile from my house. It was late - around 11, but not too late, and I wasn’t worried about going alone. It’s a pretty safe area, and I’d never felt concerned about it before.
So I walk into the store, thinking about something else but not completely oblivious to my surroundings or anything.
Evidently they neglected to put out the “Sorry, We’re Being Robbed. Back in 5 Minutes” sign.
Lizard brain realized something was wrong before the rest of me did - upon reflection, I think I picked up on the fact that while it happens, I guess, that there’s nobody visible behind the counter (perhaps because they were all down on the floor , there aren’t usually people behind the counter who aren’t wearing dorky little blue polo shirts. Didn’t get a chance to act on the warning my brain sent up, however, as by that time I was already in the store and before I knew it a guy was pointing a gun at me . :eek:
A real actual gun. The kind that shoots honest to goodness bullets.
I don’t believe my brain has really internalized that concept yet.
And so the guy - he was a younger (maybe from 20-30) black man, dressed in black with black gloves and a black jacket and a hat. I’m ashamed I couldn’t give a better description to the cops than that, but it’s like he totally slid off my brain. I have a lot more understanding now of why people can never give decent descriptions.
Later the girl behind the counter said they were wearing ski masks, and I didn’t see ski masks. I only saw one of the men, but I think he was just wearing a hat. I only saw him briefly, however, as I immediately followed instructions and was down on the floor, but I wonder if she wasn’t imagining what she thought armed robbers were supposed to look like. Wierdly enough, I remembered a little more of what they looked like than either of them did, and they’d had a lot more contact with them than I. They were also much more frightened, however, and had some responsibility for the money that got stolen as well, I’m sure.
So I hear them leave, and the counter girl begins to have shaking hysterics, which I understand because she was maybe eighteen, and her manager has her call the cops (perhaps not the best choice) while she tried to get in touch with whoever’s over her in the Blockbuster heirarchy. Evidently they cleaned out one register, all the deposit stuff, and what they could grab out of the safe. They set out on foot - there are woods on a steep hill behind the place, but the area in general is pretty developed. I don’t know if they had a vehicle on the road past the woods or what.
I was extremely impressed with the police. The first car was there in less than five minutes, and they had dogs there in less than ten. They took my name and address and phone number and a statement and let me go. I don’t know if any news vans showed up or anything afterwards, but if they did I’m extremely grateful to be let go - the last thing I want is for my dad to see me on the news like that. He’s already terrified enough about having an adult daughter as it is.
The thing is, I wasn’t frightened at all by the thing. It seems extremely strange to me, especially after watching the counter girl totally lose it. I was a little shaken, I felt my heart going faster once I was back in my car, but I wasn’t scared. I think because it still dosen’t feel real to me. It was too much like a movie. It actually took my brain a second or two to process that that was, in fact, a gun - it was like visual garbage at first, my mind couldn’t make any sense out of it. I could have gotten shot. I’m sure a customer coming in unexpectedly made them even more nervous than they would have been before - I could have died for the next Queer as Folk disc. Really and truly died, as in forever. Over nothing! Nothing! Unless they had a car nearby, which they may very well have, they’ll probably even get caught! What if I’d died for a robbery that didn’t even work? I mean, damn would I have been pissed. I really can’t internalize that as a concept; I feel a little like my 5 year old nephew, who always complains that things aren’t fair. Argh. I still can’t really believe it honestly happened. I think I won’t until I see it on the news. Gah. Very strange, the whole thing.
I’m so happy nobody was injured.
The “indepth” story on the website is a whole two paragraphs. Hmph.