True Story.....

[Cranky]

My wife and I were moving to my parents old appartment. I was dead broke and she had $6,000 saved from her work. We decided to open a new account in a bank across the street from her old bank. To transfer the money over or make a cashiers cheque, they wanted 20 bucks. Back then 20 bucks bought you a great dinner.

Sooo....

It was about 3 in the afternoon and we went to the front teller near the door to take out the money cash and walk across the street to start a new account. After about 5 minutes of filing an endless parade of paperwork, the teller finally pulled out a wad of $100. She hands me the money and I start counting it on top of the counter. I have my back to the entrance door and just as I started counting, I hear a thud from that door. I half turned my head, saw five guys rushing through and almost instinctivly, I swoop the cash turn my back slightly and shove the money down my pants. Yes, down my pants right on top of the equipment. Isn't it where everybody keeps thier money?

By now, one of them has an M1 carbine pointed at the direction of the teller, my wife and my head. I ask him.....wait for this......I ask him "what do you want us to do". He said, "do you have any money". I said, "we're f*cken broke". He said, "get down on the ground". Short, sweet, succulant chit chat.

What? You guys never had a meaningful conversation with a guy pointing a gun to your heads?

Anywho....

Two mintues later, they are all rushing out the door. They I got a grand total of $400 from the bank...and I got a story that I will never forget.

But wait.....there is more.

My wife and I get up and wonder if something happened to the teller. About a minute later, we see a head rising slowly from the back of the counter. Half way up, she peaks around the bank and then ducks down again! I call out at her that they were gone and she finally stands up, shaken and stirred.

And some more...

After a couple of minutes, she gains some composure. By that time, the cops are crawling all over the place. They come over to us and asked her if anything was taken. She says that they took $6,000 from her. I'm STUNNED. Now what? I got six grand in my crotch and she's telling the cops they took the money. Which means the bank still owes me six grand to go along with my expensive underwear. My wife thinks they took the money. The cops think they took the money. The teller thinks they took the money. Me? I'm getting jock itch.

The cops walks away.

I'm wondering what to do......

Finally, I tell the teller that I have the money and when they broke through the door, I scooped it and hid it in my pants. She tells me......too....not....

..........

Well, did I keep the money or tell the cops? The statue of limitations has long passed and I rather leave it as a mystery.

Anywho...It's a true story.

Do you guys any extraordinary story to tell?

.

[BadCompany]

Perhaps not so extraordinary... but I did find it remarkable...

Back when I was a teenager (3 or 4 years ago) I was working in a gas station (self-serve) in a small town with an overly large and enthusiastic police force (for the size of the town). This local gas station, as mandated by the powers-that-be (that would be ESSO), was told to change their alarm system to some fancy-pansy system that was all connected, or all the rage, or all the something. I don’t know why we had to change, but of course we did.

So anybody who has ever changed an alarm system knows that inevitably something will go wrong, resulting in a false alarm going off. And guess who was working the counter that day? (HINT: It was me). Has anybody else ever worked at a self-serve gas station? Did you ever have those customers, usually elderly gentlemen with nothing better to do, who come in, put $5 of gas in their cars, and proceed to spend the next 15 minutes telling you about some life story of theirs? Usually involving turnips? Anyways, that’s who was in front of me that day, when the new silent alarm went off. I, of course, didn’t hear the silent alarm, what with it being silent and all. My first clue that something was amiss came when the first police car screamed into the parking lot, lights and sirens flashing and blaring. No subtlety for these guys. Probably the first call they’d had in months, almost certainly the most exciting. He wasn’t the only one to show up though, two more cars scream in, followed by two civilian cars, manned by off-duty officers responding to the all-hands alert. Followed, I kid you not, by an ambulance, that just happened to be driving by and figured they’d better stop too, just in case. And THAT was followed – and I’m still not kidding – by two more cars pulling in to get gas. Yep, you see three cop cars with sirens and lights blazing, an ambulance, cops milling about setting up a security perimeter (one of them had assumed the classic “shotgun over the top of the car” pose) and you think to yourself “hmm, maybe I should get some gas here, seems like a happening place”. Of course this was the only gas station in town, but STILL, come on.

Anyways, I’m staring out the window at this circus, when I make eye contact with one of the cops. I guess that was the signal to charge the building, because charge the building two of them did, guns in hand. Now remember the old man and his turnip story? Well, he’s still in front of me, still telling me about his turnips when the cops rush the door… he turns, looks at them staring at him with their guns drawn, turns back to me and… continues with his story!! Yep, took another 30 seconds of me going “Um.. ex… excuse… umm… excuse me sir but… excuse me…” before he finally tipped his hat, nodded at the stunned police officers and went on his merry way…