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Writer's pictureMatthew Werenich

The Bank Robbery

Updated: Aug 17, 2023


This is a true story. Some names have been changed.


11:00:00.


I’m sitting at my desk in the middle of the bank. On my left is one empty teller’s desk, and on my right is my co-worker Katherine. Amanda is the last teller working today, on Katherine’s right. Each of us are dealing with customers – mine is about to place three dollars on my counter. On the other side of the room, a few feet behind my customer, is our customer service lead Sarah. She is standing at a counter of her own with a customer.


I’ve been working at this bank for four months. I’d never considered being a banker before, but I needed a job and Sarah recommended me. I bought a few ties, a few new dress shirts, and got new shoes. It took me a few weeks to learn the basics of my position, and though I’d consider myself competent at this point, there’s still a lot of the regular day to day stuff I’m learning. Everyone I work with has worked years at this location – some have been bankers for over a decade.


11:00:01.


The loose change lands on my counter.


“Hey there,” I say with a warm smile to the lady in front of me. She’s middle-aged and is wearing a heavy coat to protect her from the wicked chill outside. “What can I do for you to today?”


“I need five twenties,” the lady replied. “So I’d love it if you could take these and withdraw 97 dollars from my account so we-“


“GET DOWN!! GET DOWN!!”


Something’s being sprayed. I can hear it but I can’t see it. But Sarah can.


11:00:10.


Two men, dressed all in black. One of them has a can of pepper spray. A customer stands just inside the doorway. Turns his head. The thief releases the spray, and the customer throws his hands over his face in defense.


Sarah’s already started to kneel as the customer in front of her counter begins to dart back to hide with her.


11:00:12.


The men come into my vision now, and the one not holding the pepper spray places his hands firmly on the two dividers on either side of the unoccupied teller’s wicket on my left. He pulls. He vaults himself over the counter in a single leap, straight towards me.


BAM


His left foot connects with the counter next to me, and he’s slammed me against the back wall before his feet touch the ground.


“OPEN IT UP! OPEN IT!” the other thief is yelling. He’s on the other side of the counter. My customer has disappeared from view. The spray can thief has gotten her. She’s on the ground, coughing violently as the spray settles in her throat. The sprayer looses another dose directly in Katherine’s face, and she barely has time to react before the thief on our side slams her back against the wall too.


11:00:16.


Amanda has had just enough time to back herself against the wall before the thief gets to her. He jerks open her top till. Fistfuls of twenty dollar bills into a bag.


“HURRY UP HURRY UP”


He grabs the handle of the secondary cash drawer directly below Alex’s till and tears it right off its hinges. Rolls of toonies and loonies burst open as they fall to the floor.


This is my first and only moment where I have a second to act instead of react. I’m still sitting in my rolling chair. I remember my training. I’m supposed to stand, so I do. I glance at Katherine. Her hands are up, like mine.


Please God let no one get hurt


SLAM


Katherine’s till crashes open as the thief grabs more cash. Then he’s at mine. Bills are fluttering to the floor – he can’t grab them fast enough.


He tugs on the sealed empty drawer to my left.


It won’t budge and he whirls around


“WHERE’S THE KEY”


inches from my face.


Goggles


Mask over mouth


Eyes


“I don’t have it,” I say, hands still in the air. The other thief’s had enough.


“LET’S GO LET’S GO LET’S GO!” he yells, and my thief turns and bolts left. In a heartbeat he’s up


And over


Down


Onto the other side of the counter. They sprint, the doors open again, then they’re gone.


11:00:36


Now I notice it. My throat is burning. So is my nose – something in the air. I turn to look at Katherine and Amanda. Both are keeled over, coughing violently with tears streaming down their faces.


“Are you okay?” I ask. They’re obviously not, but they nod. My throat’s still on fire, and I realize whatever that spray was has filled the bank.


Is it poisonous? Probably not, I think. No way of knowing, but it won’t make any sense wondering about it while there’s work to do.


We’ve watched videos on how to handle these situations. First is make sure people are okay. Second is locking the bank down. I’m already on my way to the door the thieves left through. My boss is already there, and we work together to pull the massive glass gate closed. The gas is making him cry too.


Will my asthma make this worse? I’ll have time to think about that later. The next step is locking ourselves in the offices until the police arrive. I grab my coat from the lunchroom and hold it over my mouth and nose as I head towards where everyone else is.


The Assistant Manager is in ears, hugging everyone.


“I’m so sorry,” she says. “I’m so sorry.”


The thieves are sprinting through someone’s backyard now. It’s a small town and there aren’t many places to go. If they had a getaway car, it never showed up.


“Split up!” the one with the cash barked, and he had hopped a fence before the other could say a word. Leaving his partner behind, he continued to run, his heart thudding in his chest. He could hear the sound of sirens. There was nowhere to go.


Two more hopped fences, and the thief found himself running towards an elementary school. He stopped dead in his tracks. A woman was guiding a class of children inside, but she spotted him. There was a look of concern on her face that thief didn’t understand at first. Then he realized what the children were headed inside for.


“This is a lockdown,” the school’s P.A. system was saying. “All teachers, please take your-“


Sirens.


The thief turned around and headed back into the neighbourhood, stopping by a tree for only a moment. He dropped the bag to the ground and reached behind himself. He pulled the gun out from his pants and set it on the ground.


Fistfuls of leaves


Kick of dirt


Buried haphazardly


He took off again, but the sirens were getting louder now.


Where do I go?!


A cop car turned onto the street. There was no doubt they saw him. New-found energy filled him and he ran, but he heard the engine rev.


Another hopped fence.


The sound of a car door opening.


Where do I go where do I go


Rounded corner


Blue


The cop tackled the thief to the ground. And it was over.


The other thief was found a few days later. We were told they would be charged with robbery, assault, and possession of an firearm, amongst other things.


Things have been getting back to normal, but I know that nothing is quite the same. Whenever the door opens loudly, I look quicker than usual. Kids will come running in sometimes ahead of their parents, and I can feel my heart rate pick up. And I can’t help but notice every time I take a look at the clock; when it’s that time again.

11:00.

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