The After Effect Of A Bank Robbery Was Caffeine Addiction

I was young, just eighteen years of age, still convinced I was immortal with a devil may care attitude, but wasn't I in for a rude shock.

I was late getting my drivers licence, although I had been driving since I was twelve years of age. It was the fear of the driving test that was stopping me, but I did eventually find the courage and passed the test.

Only a few months after getting my licence, I woke one morning intending to drive down to the shops to run some errands. After that, the plan was to enjoy my day off by driving myself to the beach. I never did get to carry out most of those plans.

On waking, the morning was a normal typical 'day off' morning. Leisurely breakfast and shower, then I was ready to go.

My first errand was to head to the closest bank branch as I had a cheque to be deposited into my account. Pulled into the shopping centre, in which my bank resided, with no issues. Not even a parking issue, which was nice.

Entering the bank and there was a small queue. I almost decided to leave and come back another day. I wish I had carried through on that, almost-decision.

But no, I joined the queue instead. It was only a small branch and there were three tellers on duty. Usually there is only two but the branch manager had jumped in to help while it was busy. The tellers were getting through the customers quite quickly.

Finally I was up next. Then everything went haywire.

As one customer was finished, she started to move away from the counter towards the exit door. As she was moving away, I was moving towards the teller on the far right for my turn.

However, someone entered the bank in a rush and also started heading towards the far right teller. I hadn't seen him yet, so I was continuing to move towards the teller until this customer, in a hurry, and I collided. We found ourselves shoulder to shoulder in front of the teller on the far right.

I didn't get a chance to say a word, when the customer shoulder to shoulder with me, pushed a grocery store plastic shopping bag across the counter and demanded the teller fill it up.

It was at this point whereby both the teller and I started to realise what was happening. I also took notice of the fact the man was holding a gun, wrapped in brown paper, and was pointing it at the teller.

The teller was a middle aged woman and she was obviously aware of the seriousness because without uttering a word, she started emptying the money from her drawer into the grocery bag she had been given.

Time slowed down for me. Each second suddenly seemed minutes long. I had plenty of time to observe and think.

My first thought was, "if he wants a hostage for any reason, then that has my name written all over it." I was standing shoulder to shoulder, too scared to, so much as, bat an eyelash. If he needed a hostage, I was right there, served up on a platter directly to him.

I remember observing that he had a balaclava covering his face, wore a black sweater, blue jeans and black boots. The gun, as described before, was wrapped in brown paper and lots of sticky tape. It was clearly shaped liked a gun.

Once the teller had emptied her drawer into the plastic bag, she handed it back to the bank robber. He calmly thanked her, rushed back out of the door and walked away.

I was still standing shaking in my boots and the female teller, that had just had a gun pointed at her, turns calmly and says to the other teller and manager next to her, "We have just been robbed."

No one else had seen a thing. No one else had realised at the time what was happening. No one other than the teller and I.

The Manager sprang into action, following the tellers words. He quickly rushed over and locked the doors to the bank.

It was here, that both the teller and myself started to fall apart. I promptly sat on the floor where I had been standing all this time as I didn't think my legs where going to hold me up much longer. I was hyperventilating and starting to cry.

The Manager rushed over to me, helped me to my feet and got me a chair to sit on. He then rushed off saying he'd get me a cup of coffee. I didn't have time to tell him that I don't drink coffee, I didn't like it.

I didn't want to offend him when he come back with the coffee so I drank it and funnily enough, enjoyed it. I even asked for a second cup once I finished the first.

We waited awhile before the police got there. We were not allowed to leave until we had given a statement. Not that anyone other than the teller and I had anything to say.

Because time had seemed to slow while the crime was taking place, I was able to give a really good description to the police. They took my statement and explained that they would get the statement typed up and would need me to sign it. They would call in at my home to get my signature once the statement had been typed up.

I was then allowed to leave.

Now I really started to fall apart. I guess I was in shock, hence the delayed reaction. I found a public phone box and rang Mum, as I knew I was in no condition to drive. My family picked me and my car up and drove me to Mum's house. Mum gave me a Valium and a cup of tea - my usual beverage choice - to calm me down.

All I could think of was that I would have been the hostage if a hostage had of been needed. It terrified me standing next to that man. So much so that I was frozen, I could not move.

No one knows how they would react in these circumstances, not until it happened. I never dreamed I could feel that kind of terror and not be able to run away.

I don't know if anyone was ever held responsible for that crime. I was never informed and the police never did bring me my statement for signing, once it was typed up.

But it was that day that started my caffeine addiction that lasted for the next thirty five years.

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I have also written a condensed version of this experience in the form of a poem.

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Originally posted on Medium