armed robbery: you are DOING IT WRONG
So at about 7:50 pm a tall, skinny guy wearing a green and black hoodie pulled way down over his forehead, a black turtleneck pulled up over his nose, and his sleeves pulled down over his hands walked into the smoke shop and stood at the counter. I went to ask what I could do for him and he mumbled something about twenties.
I figured he was trying to make a bad joke about it being cold outside, since he was all bundled up, but I couldn't really understand what he'd said and I guess I looked at him funny. He kept hunching and ducking his head down so I couldn't see any skin between his turtleneck and his hood, and he held his right hand up at the edge of the counter with a small flashlight just poking out from the end of his sleeve.
He said something about twenties again.
At this point I remembered that we'd been robbed a few months ago, put that together with the way this guy seemed to be desperately avoiding both our security cameras and my gaze, and said, "Are you... robbing me?"
He said, in a relatively high voice and generic northeastern American accent, "Just the twenties from the register," and kept standing there with his stupid little flashlight resting on the counter. His left hand was down at his side and seemed to be empty, and he wasn't looming at me -- if anything, his body language and vocal tone were apologetic rather than threatening. And a six-inch flashlight does not count as a weapon.
Which is probably why my reaction was not to open the register, but instead to take a sliding step to the left and slowly start to reach down toward the telephone, to see how he'd react.
At which point the would-be robber must have lost his nerve, because he turned and walked out of the store. He turned left and headed east on State St., but I have no idea what happened once he passed beyond the edge of our display window.
Meanwhile I'd dialed 911, and the police showed up within two minutes. They took my report and description, such as it was, and waited while I tried and failed to get our security system to display the recording of the event -- I have the code, but even though PM showed me how to enter the commands, I couldn't make it display anything but real-time feeds. They will send an officer tomorrow morning to get the recording from PM, who is opening. I also called PM and told her what had happened so she won't be caught by surprise.
Then, since it was 8:30 by the time the police had left, I started closing procedures -- putting away newspapers, dumping coffee pots, counting cigarettes and lottery tickets, etc. -- and locked the doors at 9pm, as always. And now I am home and eating dinner.
...
That was definitely one of the stranger evenings of my life.
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I figured he was trying to make a bad joke about it being cold outside, since he was all bundled up, but I couldn't really understand what he'd said and I guess I looked at him funny. He kept hunching and ducking his head down so I couldn't see any skin between his turtleneck and his hood, and he held his right hand up at the edge of the counter with a small flashlight just poking out from the end of his sleeve.
He said something about twenties again.
At this point I remembered that we'd been robbed a few months ago, put that together with the way this guy seemed to be desperately avoiding both our security cameras and my gaze, and said, "Are you... robbing me?"
He said, in a relatively high voice and generic northeastern American accent, "Just the twenties from the register," and kept standing there with his stupid little flashlight resting on the counter. His left hand was down at his side and seemed to be empty, and he wasn't looming at me -- if anything, his body language and vocal tone were apologetic rather than threatening. And a six-inch flashlight does not count as a weapon.
Which is probably why my reaction was not to open the register, but instead to take a sliding step to the left and slowly start to reach down toward the telephone, to see how he'd react.
At which point the would-be robber must have lost his nerve, because he turned and walked out of the store. He turned left and headed east on State St., but I have no idea what happened once he passed beyond the edge of our display window.
Meanwhile I'd dialed 911, and the police showed up within two minutes. They took my report and description, such as it was, and waited while I tried and failed to get our security system to display the recording of the event -- I have the code, but even though PM showed me how to enter the commands, I couldn't make it display anything but real-time feeds. They will send an officer tomorrow morning to get the recording from PM, who is opening. I also called PM and told her what had happened so she won't be caught by surprise.
Then, since it was 8:30 by the time the police had left, I started closing procedures -- putting away newspapers, dumping coffee pots, counting cigarettes and lottery tickets, etc. -- and locked the doors at 9pm, as always. And now I am home and eating dinner.
...
That was definitely one of the stranger evenings of my life.
You can also read this entry on Dreamwidth, where there are currently (
comments)