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Bank Job

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So the other day I tried to rob a bank in Ontario Canada.  Two minutes after it started we were back on the freeway, driving for all we were worth.  Don’t understand it.  We had practiced and practiced and we still failed. 

We were all inspired by the movie, Ocean’s 11.  We thought that if we rehearsed enough and practiced enough, we could do it.  We were wrong.  I spent months learning every lane-way in Ontario.  I had it down pat, but it wasn’t enough.  

We cued up our positions and rushed the bank.  So far so good.  I ran ahead and blackout the cameras, just as planned.  Right behind me was the rest of the team, ready to go.  Sawed off shotguns, masks, bags with the dollar signs on it.  You name it, we were ready for it.  Or so we thought… It’s funny how the little things can trip you up.  And those things that trip you up are always the things that you didn’t know about.  

  • Hostage situation?  Ready.  
  • Alarms?  Ready.  
  • Security guard who wants to be a hero?  Ready. 
  • Elvis impersonators?  Ready.
  • Bank full of priests?  We were even ready for that.
  • Bank full of nuns?  Not ready.
Talk about your taboos.  Who would ever have thought that we would ever encounter a bunch of nuns.  Like zebras they were!  They just stood there and stared at us as we barked our orders and we just didn’t know what to do.  Oh sure, they followed the orders, but as the old saying goes, ‘You just can’t hold up a nun!’
Don’t get me wrong, poor planning is poor planning, but I have to cut myself a little slack.  This is a group of people who have taken a vow of poverty.  What business did they have being in a bank?  Turns out they were teachers and wanted to teach the kids about how to use a bank.  Because of the aforementioned vow of poverty, few had ever been to a bank.  The Mother Superior of the the order decided that they should all go and see how it works.  She was quoted as saying after the attempt, ‘I had to take some time to explain the the sisters that the robbery was not part of the normal routine.’  

The worst part of this all is that I need to call the realtor and let her know that the deal is off.  You see, we had all planned to by condos right on the beach in Barbados.  Neat place, Barbados.  I have had this in the works for about a year.  The idea was to make sure that the deal was not sudden.  Sudden attracts attention.  I wanted this to be in place well before the job was done.  Now I don’t have the cash to finish it.  Sarah is going to be pissed.  But now the only thing I get to see is a sketch of me on the 6 o’clock news.  They didn’t even get my nose right.  

At the end of the day Nate was the only one who didn’t make it out of the bank.  It’s his own damn fault, really.  I had doubts about his ability to pull this off anyway, but I never thought it would turn out like this.  I can just see him in the police car, trying to explain that after he saw the nuns, he knew what he was doing was wrong.  His conscience tugged at him and he knew he had to give up.  Who knows, maybe that line of reasoning will even work.  I hope so.  If he spends the rest of his life in jail I may never get the chance to slap him upside his head for being such a putz.

So here I am, sitting by the phone, waiting to find out if he is going to finger us or not.  I hope he doesn’t.  I really am not ready to go to jail for this.  

Good thing the interweb is anonymous.  I would hate someone to track be down because of this post.

And so it goes.

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