“Go get all the money from the safe!” I flinched as the masked man jerked his gun to the space behind me. “Now!” “O-okay.” I stuttered, turning to rush to the safe, but once my back was to the man I smiled. I had prepared all my life for something like this. All those crime dramas and documentaries were gonna pay off today. I pretended to fumble with the keys to one of the safes and dropped them. I looked back with a convincing look of fear then bent down as if to pick up the keys. I quickly searched the floor and pocketed the big metal door stop near me. I grabbed a few wads of hundred dollar bills to bring back to the man. “I-i-is this e-enough?” I placed the money on the counter with shaking hands. “Stop with the BS and get the rest!” He shouted, jerking his gun again. I spun around with my head low and clutched the door stop. “Aaaahh!” I screamed my battle cry as I spun on my heal with my makeshift weapon in hand and ran towards the man. I swung at his head in an attempt to knock him out but he dogged. I tried to jump over the too tall counter but slid over the top, landing butt first onto the other side. Suddenly I felt a something hit the back of my head. I could hear the talking in the background slowly getting more distanced as the ringing in my ears got louder. Then, I was out.

It was a regular day at Cross Rivers Saving & Loans. Behind an inch of bulletproof plastic, Nicholas stood bored. Debbie was running late per usual. Under bank protocol Mr. Shen should be behind the glass as a backup bank teller but instead he was online trying to cover the spread for the San Barracus Brewsters versus the Mohnton Bulldogs. Edna was in the back of bank doing God knows what. Nicholas was bored to tears. Tonight was pub quiz night at The Drunken Sailor, true crime edition. Tony and his crew from the Pick’n’Save were knee deep in serial killers, sick bastards. But Nicholas and his best bud Rumi had been studying heists. From the Gardiner Museum to DB Cooper, they were robber baron beasts. With their team mates they were going to win that free pizza. Nicholas’ eyes swept the acoustic tiles, the basic vanilla walls with inoffensive corporate abstracts, the dirt brown carpet. Today would be a great day to hold up a bank, Nicholas thought. A slender man in a high collared trench coat strode towards him. Who wears a trench coat? Nicholas thought. Then he said the full face mask, it was realistic, really realistic and with the protective face mask it was completely believable. Nicholas would have been fooled if he didn’t recognized who it was. Nicholas was face to face with Brian Reader, the Guv’ner, the leader of the Diamond Geezers who stole $20 million from a London bank. He was a legend, a criminal genius, and dead for eight years. Gently the fake old man placed a sturdy zippered satchel on the fake granite countertop. The Guv’ner wore fine leather gloves and pointed to the cash drawer. The Guv’ner rested his hand on his hip showing the tidy gun in his waistband. Nicholas considered reaching for the alert button. The robber coughed and shook his head no politely. Opening his cash drawer Nicholas reached for the fives and tens. Another polite cough warned. Oddly calm Nicholas removed the top drawer and accessed the hundreds. Nicholas grabbed an exploding dye pack. Faux Reader crossed his arms and chuckled. That laugh froze Nicholas’ brain. The pack slipped from his fingers. Phlatho blue splattered Nicholas’ khakis. The robber zipped the bag full of cash closed and turned to leave. Edna opened the back of bank door. The Guv’ner tipped his fedora to me and sailed out of the door. Knowing the robber was safely outside, Nicholas hit the alarm button as he fell to floor. He covered his face writhing. Edna stared and shouted. Mr. Shen ran from his glass walled den of iniquity. Nicholas would know Rumi’s chuckle anywhere. He bit his hands to hide his laughter.

Look at him in his mask acting the fool. His soft pink lips poking out from his mouth hole. The way he seductively tells me to put the money in the bag. I look around the room to all the frightened faces as I slowly collect the money for him. He guides me out from behind the desk and makes me kneel with the other hostages.

I love a man who knows how to take control.

I’ve seen so many crime dramas, they all say to press the little alarm to ring the police. But I can’t be bothered with that. I don’t trust the police, all this guy wants is some money. I don’t get paid enough for this. Maybe he’ll ask me on a date after.

He gave me a huge sack and told me to fill all the money I can with it so I do but secretly also give him my phone as well with a tracker app. I gave him the bag back and he goes along all the other tellers until he can fill all he can then leaves. Now this is the part where I could have just did nothing but learning from all the crime “dramas” I watched including Reno 911, Monk and Lethal weapon I felt at ease to handle the situation myself so I climbed into my car drove past the police who had just arrived at the scene (because why talk to them right) And used my tablet that was connected to my phone to start tracking him down. I started following the guy he then stopped at some apartment building and as soon as he got out I put a gun to his face and told him to drop the bag and put his hands on the ground One kick in the face later he then told me his whole life story how he was abused as a kid how he came to be stealing from my bank I started feeling some sympathy for him so I gave him a Lunch from Wendy’s that I knew he really liked then I called the police. I Then told them what happened but suddenly they started putting the cuffs on me???? I asked them why and they told me stuff like you look close enough plus you even holding the bag full of money so then I was Shipped off to jail, the real criminal thank the police and went on his merry way.

You see you can’t trust the police these days.(shaking my head)

I collapsed onto my couch, exhausted. It was nearly midnight.

 The day was absolutely insane.

 It had started out normal and suddenly became one of my best memories.
 It all started when a masked man with a gun had exploded in through the doors…
 
 “I’m going to say it one last time, UNLOCK THE SAFE AND GIVE ME THE MONEY!!” He had yelled, holding up the gun.
 I acted frantic as I pretended to search for the key, which was in my pocket.
 I quickly thought of a plan, grab the man’s gun, and get one of the petrified people behind the robber call the cops while I hold him at gun point, finally all my knowledge from police movies and criminal dramas would pay off.
 “I-I got it!” I said, “Good, now UNLOCK THE SAFE.” 
 Swiftly, I snatched the gun away from him.
 “And what if I don’t want to?”
 I wasn’t sure, but judging by the robbers silence(and how quickly he help up his hands), I guessed he hadn’t expected that.
 I made a signal to a woman cowering near the back wall and she grabbed her phone out of her purse.
 “911?”

~~•~~

 I watched as the now unmasked man was shoved into the police car, glaring at me.
 “That was awesome, how you handled that robbery.” The woman(who’s name was Cristi)said to me, I shrugged, embarrassed, “I watch a lot of movies about crime, so I just followed in the hero’s footsteps.” “Well you did an amazing job.”
 I smiled and looked around at the crowd around the bank. My smile faltered for a moment.
 “Hey, uh, do you wanna- maybe want to go out to dinner with me?” Cristi asked sheepishly, my smile brightened up again, “I’d love that,”

It was all according to plan, there’s Brink’s armory right on time: 9:03 am on the dot. There’s the car dealership 9:12am, Chevy’s driver needs to slow down a bit or the boss might get mad. Lastly, yep here’s the kid from Burger Chef; thanks kid, as the mysterious figure leans up against the building lighting a cigarette. Yep, just put your bare hands on that clear money deposit bag. I’ll make sure to thank you later.

The mysterious figure then exhales a puff of smoke and waits as his back foot rests along the side of the wall. Just give them a little more time, last nights deposits are just getting processed and then they have to be rechecked by the head teller. The morning huddle will take place shortly after that and then the tellers will start their day, as he takes another drag of his cigarette.

Avoid, the older tellers they know too much, go to a young one they will do what you want. Avoid too short of line, go slow and steady that’s right slow and steady. As he pulls out his sunglasses out of his coat pocket; he always liked the Maverick look, this pair of sunglasses might suit him well after all.

One more check, as he slightly turns toward the door of Springfield Bank: security guard at the door check, shatter proof glass along the side wall check, security cameras above each teller check, managers office to the right and the three exits are all accessible, check. The silent alarm trigger is to the right and underneath the teller windows, you must be fast for the police will be here quickly.

The time is now 11 am, perfect! The mid-day business deposits will be coming in now. The tellers will be busy.

The mysterious gentleman flicks his cigarette to the ground and stomps on it with his old worn out black work boots. He rolls down his sleeves to cover the tribal and sparrow tattoos on his forearm and wrist.

The bank is pretty busy for a Tuesday, it must be the third of the month, that is when most people get their retirement and disability checks, perfect timing he smirks to himself. Hmmm, where to go as he scans the room for his best opportunity.

There! That’s the one, the young blonde with the green headband, Sarah as he glances at the name plate. Line has three people already more people coming in; manager is in her office, helping a couple with a car loan; she will be busy for awhile. Remember, just slip Sarah the note, avoid eye contact; no need to pull out the gun- just let her see it. Just one more person before it is done; no going back now.

“Hello, welcome to Springfield Bank; how can I help you?” as Sarah greets the thirty looking brown haired man in the aviator glasses. Just smile and nod, and give her the note which says: “Stay calm, do not trip the alarm I have a gun, please give me what’s in the drawer, keep the last slot for yourself”.

Sarah responds, “Yes, sir I will get that for you shortly” as she reads the note and sees the butt of a gun in his waistband as he moves his coat aside slightly. He knows about the marked bills and ink packs as she thinks to herself. “I must keep calm, come on Sarah think- what can you do to help this situation?” Then she remembered the old crime dramas she used to watch with her grandfather. There were always two lessons in these shows, the power of observation the who? what? where? why? and how? And always give the person what they want, safety first, it is always better to lose the cash than your life.

Quickly, Sarah observes the mystery man as she puts the money in the bag. He looks thirtyish, medium build, soft spoken, long sleeve navy blue shirt, with the name Andy on it. Probably a fake of course, but still important none the less, worn older looking blue jeans, cheap Timex watch on left wrist, as she continues her catalog of items to remember and then she sees it! As she passes the bag to the man she thought she saw a quick glimpse of a tattoo on the right wrist. It was a small sparrow on the inside wrist! She must remember that tattoo.

Yes come on girl, pass the bag now that’s it. Good! As the stranger reaches for the bag. He moves out of the bank, past the security guard as quickly and quietly as he came and was gone.

Sarah, now very relieved but a little shaken up, immediately triggers the silent alarm, she puts up her closed sign and quickly walks over to her managers office. Sarah whispers in her ear about what happened and she nods.

The police, as the stranger suspected, were there in three minutes. They escorted Sarah to a private room were she told them everything she remembered about the gentleman, including the “Sparrow Tattoo!”

The tattoo was the very breakthrough the police was needing. They informed Sarah, they already had a case open on this guy. The description-the aviator glasses, the soft voice, note, all matched similar reports in two different counties. The only new description to add to the suspect was the sparrow tattoo. They thanked her and said they would take this information back to the station and run it through their database and see if they can find a match. Unfortunately, the database was negative for anyone that had that distinct sparrow tattoo and the case went cold.

A few months later, Sarah gets a file in the mail from the precinct with a letter, a few photos and a name. In the letter it said: “Captured!”Rodger Sanders, age 31, of Springfield, former loan officer for Sunny Trust Bank, now works at O’Rourks Tire Company in Morristown. The photos in the file were a mugshot of Mr. Sanders and two arm photos of a tribal tattoo and the now famous sparrow tattoo.

The letter stated the department would be contacting her and the other witnesses soon to assist in building their case against Mr. Sanders.

The letter concluded with the Springfield Police Chief congratulating her for her good detective work, without her help they would not have been able to get a lead in the case. He even mentioned in the letter that with her unique ability to stay calm under pressure and her keen skill of observation, she should consider a career in law enforcement, “for your a natural” it said. And with that Sarah, smirked to her self and thought, “Maybe, I will!”

Another boring day at work counting cash, taking checks, swiping cards. It’s all rather dull really. I kind of hate it and I’ve day dreamed about quitting more than once. I ponder this as I count yet another stack of $1 bills. Some of them have odd stains on them… disgusting. My gaze wanders to the young woman standing in front of me. Is she a stripper? A waitress? No way to know. The bills are rough and dry in my hands, I remembered to say “thank you, have a nice day!” As she left. But that’s about it, the rest of the hour goes by in a blur of customer service persona and death inducing boredom. Then like a crack of thunder everything comes into sharp focus around me as I hear “don’t make a sound, just hand over the money” I look up still foggy from my daze of work time boredom. The man is masked but so are all the other patrons. Our bank is one of the last businesses in town to enforce the mandate. He’s wearing sunglasses inside which is odd and a ball cap pressed down low over his eyes. “Did you hear me?” He asks, his brow scrunched down low and his breath is warm against my face as leans in to close. My heart begins to beat faster than normal as I realize what’s happening. This is a robbery. A real live robbery, in my bank! “Thank God” I whisper under my breath, the mans brow furrows further and leans in closer, I can see the glint of a pistol under his coat and a glimpse of sweaty, meaty fingers. “What did you say?” “I said, thank God your finally here. I thought it was going to take you all damn day.” The man leans in even closer trying to catch my hurried words “did Tommy tell you to wear that get up? It’s completely ridiculous.” Slowly I place my open palms against the counter top as far from the panic button as I can get them. I know how this scene plays out, no one ever hits the panic button without the robber realizing what they did. I resist the urge to look around me, one of my co-workers would surely notice the sweat dripping down my forehead. The man stands up straight and expression of confusion plain on his face. “Gosh damn, he didn’t tell you anything at all did he?” I ask trying my hardest to keep the bluff out of my voice. I unceremoniously grab a pen next to my hand and hold it out the man distracted looks at it and that’s my chance to scan the room behind him. There’s no other suspicious characters out there. Just him. He’s our only customer. “Write it down” I whisper. The man stares at me blankly, this is not the reaction he was expecting and it’s evident that he’s not quick on the uptake. “Write down what you want me to tell them”. I clarify. The man hesitantly take the pen and scrubbed on a sheet of paper. His words are completely illegible, I have no idea what he wrote or what he thought I intended him to write. At this point my only choice is to keep him on his toes and make sure no one realizes what is happening. I’ve seen enough crime TV to realize that these situations only degrade into madness when people start panicking. Under no circumstances can I allow that to happen. People’s lives are literally in my hands. I turn to my co-worker Pam and say in as steady a voice as I can manage “Bob, here needs his safe deposit box opened but he lost his key.” The man stares at me with a drone expression. “I’m going to take him into the back room and see if I can’t help him with the paperwork to get a new one.” Pam nods absently she’s in the midst of unlocking her computer, poor Pam forgets her password every day. I wink at the man and gesture for him to follow me. Miraculously he does as soon as we’re behind closed doors I turn to him with a furious expression “what the hell? What is wrong with you? Didn’t Tommy explain the plan at all? Your putting us all at risk!” I continue to rail at the top of my lungs for as long as I can. The man seems to shrink into the wall behind him as I talk. The poor guy has no idea what’s happening. “God, just wait here, I’ll go get the cash. This is going to be so hard to explain to everyone! I’ve got no clue how we are going to cover this up!” I March out of the room, slam the door shut and lock it behind me. It’s only then that I breath a sigh of relief as I pick up my phone and dial 911. I can feel a promotion in my future.

My day started out, like any other, getting up, and going to work. The date on the calendar, said Friday the 13th, but I didn’t think much about that. At my job, at the local bank, it was ‘take your android, to work day’. I had my own, Since I helped, build him,from scratch. All those long, hard, sleepless nights, in the basement, planning, ordering, And giving life, to my electric friend.

He went everywhere, with me, except work, so this was a special occasion. Off we went, riding the air train, to town, With my friend Droi. He was very excited, to go with me, and as we rode, he was giving off, small sparks of joy, sending Reflections of himself, in the window.

We got to the bank, just as the coin users, lined up to enter. That was all, these certain users, did on Friday, was to cash In the coins. In return, they would get, their choice of Meat, Vegetables, Fruit, or Bread. Milk, and other liquid items, were Given out on other days, just not on Fridays.

The back place of enter, was just for the job doers, so I flashed my enter card, and we went in. I got to my booth of coins, And Droi. Sat down next to me. If you can imagine, a droid smile, well, he had the biggest one there.

The users, were starting to enter, with their coins, in heavy, sacks, some pulled by wheel carts, others in jars of clay, waiting To be freed, from their place. Soon I noticed, that one user, all alone, without any cart, or jar, or actually holding anything, Entered.

He walked up, to my booth, and showed me his empty, old leathery, wallet, that contained a note, that read ‘ Coins, now, No speaking necessary, do it now’. I held my breath, and thought, what would Colombo or Kojack do at this time.

The next thing, I saw, was a weapon, being pulled out,from under his tattered old trench coat, by Droi. He saw what this User, had on his mind, before I did. He was pushed, to the ground, by my metal hero, and we waited for the Man of badge to arrive.

The rest of the job doers, were cheering, and throwing petals of flower, at us, for saving the house of coins. The boss Of the house, said that’ Hero, everyday, you can bring Droi here, yet, he can be like you, and be a job doer’

He kindly accepted, the offer he was given, and they went home, with two big smiles not just one.

Betty Sue was daydreaming. It was a really slow day at First Loving Bank of Killum, Texas, and she had popped a piece of Juicy Fruit in her mouth which was against bank rules, but nobody paid much attention to the rules anyway. The manager, Kenneth “call me Ken” Hawkins was not very managerial, and mostly he spent his time trying to get someone….anyone….to go on a date with him. Betty Sue had turned him down so many times he finally quit asking her which suited both of them. Now he just ignored her and let her do pretty much what she wanted to do so he didn’t have to talk to her.

“Gimme what ya got, lady.”

The voice interfered with Betty Sue’s nice daydream about the UPS guy, and when she focused, she saw this guy in front of her with a Donald Trump mask and a gun. Now truth be told, Betty Sue was not the brightest bulb on the tree, and while she probably should have been intimidated by the gun, she also had four older brothers who had thought it great fun to try to scare her while she was growing up, and guns were a favorite prop.

“Oh, come on. Trump? Really?” It was the first thing that came to mind, and it just fell out of her mouth.

“I ain’t foolin’ around. Gimme all your money.” It was so weird hearing that voice coming out of the Trump face, that Betty Sue giggled. “You think this is funny? Hand it over or I’ll blow you to kingdom come, dummy.”

By now, Betty Sue had, in her slow way, figured out that this was not a joke, and her left hand was slowly moving toward the panic button under by her teller window. With her right hand she pulled open the drawer, spotting the bag that they were supposed to put any money in if they got robbed; the one with the dye pack that went off as soon as the robber walked out the door.

Trump trumped that plan, though, by throwing a plastic Piggly Wiggly bag on the counter. “Stick it in here, and do it quick!”

Betty Sue, having been impeccably trained by the Education Committee of First Loving Bank said in her most soothing voice, “Yessir. You want that in 10’s and 20’s?”

There was a heartbeat of pause and then fake Trump hissed, “I don’t give a rat’s ass, you dumb broad. Just stick what you got in the bag and give it to me.”

Betty Sue stared at him, noting that his eyes behind the mask were an odd shade of amber, and that his hair that was sticking out in the back of the mask was a bright copper color. She took all this in as she was stuffing what bills she had into the grocery bag with one hand and feeling around, still, for that panic button. She had to lean slightly to the left to reach it, and she didn’t dare make any quick moves, so she sort of looked like she was sliding off her stool but he didn’t seem to catch on. Finally she found the button and pushed it at the same time she saw Ken Hawkins walk out from his office. She tried to subtly shake her head at him so he wouldn’t come over, but clueless as ever, Ken just yelled at her.

“Everything okay, Betty Sue?”

The Trump thing stiffened and he stared at her, his eyes narrowing into little slits that she could see even with the mask.

“Yessir, all okay. Just helping this gentleman. All good. All fine.”

It had been about three minutes since she’d pushed the button to alert the police station which was practically next door, and through the front window she could see Officer McConnelly coming down the sidewalk. Now McConnelly never rushed anywhere. He waddled, and Betty Sue, trying to delay the robber, took as long as she could putting the bills in the bag.

“Hurry it up, stupid!” She could tell he was losing patience and she shoved the bag at him. He grabbed it, turned away from her, and when he saw Officer McConnelly walking up to the door, he yanked off the mask and ran to the door, pushing it open and right into the officer’s rather prodigious belly, causing him to let out a loud “Ooph!”

By now Betty Sue was outside of her teller window, and watching the Trump guy getting into a pretty nice Ford truck.

Now Betty Sue wasn’t so dumb. She knew exactly who the Trump guy was; she’d had a crush on him all through high school and truth be told, she had a thing for bad boys (which also explained her aversion to Ken Hawkins). When Officer McConnelly finally got his breath and managed to walk into the bank, she had made up her mind to not give him any real information. Luke Stanton, a.k.a. Donald Trump, was too damn good looking to rat out, and since she had the upper hand in this fiasco, she was going to use it to her advantage. And so she did.

Luke and Betty Sue became an item in Killum, and while no one could really understand the attraction for Luke, every time they came to the Piggly Wiggly together, Betty Sue would say, “What’s it gonna be for supper tonight, Don?” Luke would pale and reply, “Anything you want, snookums.”

They were a very odd couple, no doubt about it.

“That’s not a real gun.” The teller rolled his eyes, snapped his gum, and went back to scrolling his Twitter feed. If you could have seen the masked man’s face, I’m sure his eyebrows would have been raised with an air of confusion. I mean, it wasn’t a real gun, but how could a bank teller know that? “I can literally see the black paint coming off the plastic on your fingertips. And no gloves? Great job genius. Why don’t you just write down your name and address and we can call up your doctor for the rest?” The gunman may have already regretted a thing or two, but at that point, entering the bank that day with a child’s toy and a foolish plan ranked close to the top of the list. He just needed the money, but this dressing down from a seriously unimpressed teller was less than expected.