While most of the nation was talking about the very recently ended Super Bowl, I was at work closing down. It was 8:45 and we close at 9pm, so i only had a few minuets to go before I could lock the door. I just finished counting my drawer, a little early, but I had only had one sale and that was hours ago. I pulled out the nightly paperwork and was about to get started when the door opened.
A man wearing a ski mask came in. My first though was, “oh he must ride a motorcycle” then that was followed by, “wait it is not cold enough for one of those”.
Then I saw the gun.
With his gun hand cocked to the side he told me in a disguised deep voice, “give me all your money, I am not kidding I will use this”.
I froze. There was a white hot flash of adrenaline and it paralyzed me for what seemed like an eternity. I walked to the register and reached under to grab the bank bag with the register cash. I gave it to him and he left.
I did not move for a minuite, or so it seemed. I wanted to run to the door to see if there was a car, but could not. My self preservation got in the way. I did however have to concentrate very hard to control my bowels. It was an effort not to shit my pants.
I slowly walked to the door and locked it without even trying to look the way he had gone.
I ran and hit the panic button, grabbed the phone and ran to the office where I locked the door and called 9-1-1.
Feeling somewhat safe, but expecting the door to burst open any second, I allowed myself to cry. The 9-1-1 operator asked me my address and I had enough presence of mind to grab one of our business cards on my way to the back so I would be prepared for this answer as I do not know it yet by heart. She asked for the number I was calling from and I could not see the card through the tears. I wiped them away and read them to her.
She asked what had happened and I answered “A man with a gun came in and took the money”. Saying it out loud made the event real. The crying began anew.
She asked if he had touched me, “no”. She asked if I need an ambulance, “no”. I wanted one, I wanted to go to the hospital so I could get counseling, but I know that ambulance bills are not cheap, so I declined. She asked if I was okay, “physically, yes”. She told me that she would stay on the phone with me until the officers got there, and right after she said that she told me they were out front.
Scared as hell, I left the office. I almost panicked because I did not see them, but then I caught the movement of one. I do not even remember getting off the phone with her. The door was opened. Several men came in all asking questions:
When did it happen?
Two minuets ago
What was he wearing?
Blue hoodie, black ski mask, maybe blue jeans, black cotton gloves, over 6ft, over 200 lbs
How many people has touched the door?
Only a few, it was cleaned at 5:30 and we only had a few customers, but he was wearing gloves
How much money did he take?
Exactly $50, I had no cash sales today
What denominations?
22 ones, 2 fives, a roll each of quarters, nickels and dines, less than 50 pennies, other loose change
What did you give it to him in?
Blue bank bag with “92″ on in (store 9, drawer 2)
What did he look like again?
What did the gun look like?
What did he say?
What did he look like?
When did it happen?
I felt like I was the guilty one, I felt like I had done something wrong. I know they were doing their ob, I know they had to ask the same questions over and over again to make sure my answers did not change.
All the right people in the company were notified, all the right people come. Dean was called, Dean drove 40 miles to come get me. Sad attempts at jokes were made with nervous laughter following. People tried to make me feel better.
All I could this was I was 2 seconds from having a bullet in my head. All I can think now is when is he going to come back because he was pissed he only got $50. What if it was a regular, what if this person knows me?
Dean does not want me going back to the store, ever. I do not want to go back either, but I have to. If it was just a job, then no biggie, but I have a future with what this company is offering me — a career.
Maybe I can talk to the owner and see if I can get transfered to the office. Maybe they can pay me to get the non-profit up and running, maybe I can just do the home parties. I love working with the people and I get so much from it, but last night has changed me.
Last night I was going to die, but I learned something about myself that I had always wondered. Do I believe in a god?
After the ordeal, I ran the events over and over in my head thousands of times, and I noticed something. At no point did I even think about god, no point did I pray, no point did I wonder -at that instant before I thought he was going to shoot me- if I was going to heaven or hell.
All I was worried about was if I was going to shit my pants or not. I learned that I could control my bowels against all odds and that I was really an agnostic. Because I really just don’t know.
I left a message for the office that is on my case asking about victim counseling. All cities offer it free to victims of violent ordeals and I really need it. And if I do need extended counseling, I can get up to $50,000 for the services from the state victim fund.
I wish I could say I am alright. I am physically, but every time I hear a noise it is the gun firing into my head.