another stupid split-tail.

Once upon a time:

A woman, a car-sitter (and you know how I feel about them) came running into the store. She was frantic, shaking and screaming for her husband. Of course he had come in with the intention of buying a movie the two of them could watch together but he got so wound up looking at box covers, he dipped into the jack shack so he could get his mind right. While he was inside pumping his peen, his wife was outside acting like a total dingbat.

She couldn't find him and started to cry. My co-clerk was first on her scene but in cases like this, I am always the one to take over. I'm the care-taker. I'm the one who will give them tissues and hugs. Through her tears and tremors she managed to get out that she'd just been robbed. I asked her to calm down and asked her to tell me what happened. Maybe I knew the guy. Maybe he was a regular.

She sobbed and her chest heaved but she got the story out. "Well, (sob) I was in my car and this man came out of the bushes! (sob) And then he tapped like this *tap*tap*tap* on my window so I pressed the button and put the window down..."

I cut her off.

"Wait, the car was on?"

"Yes (sob) I told you my husband is in here. I wanted to listen to the radio. GARY! So (sob) I put the window down and he had his other hand inside the pocket of his sweatshirt (sob!) like this (makes a pointy finger under her shirt) I didn't know if it's a gun or not and he said, 'Gimme your purse!' (sob)"

I just stared at her. Blinked. Bewildered. She's got to be shitting me. "So what did you do then?"

"I GAVE HIM MY PURSE!"

I nodded. Handed her the phone and told her to call 911. I turned around to my co-worker and said, "You deal with her. I'm sorry lady, but you didn't get robbed, you got spare-changed. The only difference is, he didn't ask for a quarter."

Where I come from, you're not getting robbed unless you see a little steel.

However, the good news of this story is that they caught the guy that night. Now, if we'd done it my way, the guy would never have gotten my purse. Not if I'm in a locked fucking car with the motor running and keys in it. If I'm in a running car, I'm suddenly the bravest bitch in three counties. But when she gave him her purse, she LET him commit a felony. By doing that, he got a minimum of three years to think about the way he makes fingers point in his hoodie. My way, he might still be on the streets, maybe he never would have got clean. Maybe this chicken shit woman, too afraid to be in a porno store and too stupid to know not to talk to a man who walks out of some bushes, saved his life.

Now her husband on the other hand... He's another story.