A Private Client

In the movies the criminal avoids a male bank teller, but I had to take my chances that he wouldn’t try to be a hero.

“You don’t have to do this,” his arms were up, eyes meeting mine behind the old ski mask.

People don’t have to do a lot of things - until someone forces them.

Just ask my landlord, who just this morning had the sheriffs at my door to remind me that if I didn’t pay the rent, I’d be out on the street. And yes, I could just as soon pack up my car and sleep somewhere for a few nights, but I was out of friends offering favors these days.

I was silent and passed the note, “I’m sorry. I’m a mother. Please forgive me ->”

His head cocked, and he now likely figured there was no gun in the paper bag in my hand, and even if there were, I wouldn’t murder anyone. He could still save the day if he wanted.

But I knew this lazy mama’s boy who always made excuses. He wouldn’t be anyone’s hero, least of all his daughter’s.

I flipped my note over, “Jordan - Next time, pay the goddamn child support.”