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Buy Good Drugs to Goodbye Drugs - Chapter 2
Chapter 2
With every step closer I took towards the entrance of the bank, my whole soul became more weighted with an impending sense of destruction and doom. I entered into the bank and immediately noticed that I was the only actual customer in the building. I'd hoped it would be more busy, so I could blend in with other customers, but no such luck. This whole day couldn't be starting any better, I facetiously thought to myself. The eyes of the four bank tellers fell upon me, as a sudden and unexpected chill coursed through my body. They seemed more akin to the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, than just docile bank tellers. I was suspect already, and I knew it. Worse I was an only suspect. This must be how an only child feels whenever she or he breaks the law at home. My clothing choice, which was my only choice of clothing sadly, was not what any self respecting man would wear, to do any sort of business, anywhere, at any time of day. I however, was not a self respecting man. I'm quite certain I wasn't even a respected man at this point. Here I was though, ready to try and sell myself as such. I approached the first teller with check and driver's license in hand. As I got to his window, he looked at me rather bemused and said "How many I help you, sir?". I opened my mouth to talk, suddenly realizing that all the smoking I had done five minutes ago, had dried out my mouth and lips so much, that I could barely speak. "I'd just like to cash this check please", were all the words I could manage to mumble to the teller. "Umm, Okay", he said, now actually amused at what was unfolding before him. He took the check and my license, typed about six different keys on his keyboard, then looked at me, smiled, and said "sir, I'll be just a second, please wait right there". With that he disappeared to the back of the bank.
I stood there for what seemed like an eternity, just watching the bank teller, watching me. I felt like I was at the zoo, watching an oversized rat in an oversized rat enclosure. I wonder what animal he would say he is watching? A snake probably. Snakes eat rats though, no wonder he is keeping his distance. I smirked at the thought of me being his demise. What kind of snake would I be though. A Rattle Snake? No, they like too much dry heat. I do not. An Anaconda? Yeah, I think that's it. A giant, soul squeezing, life sucking Anaconda that could end his day, and his work week with bone crushing force. I shuddered at the thought of being a snake. I despise the serpent with forked tongue so immensely. I sat there half day dreaming, half dreaming, half awake, half asleep, when my personal Apocolypse happened. It happened quickly too. One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six and lucky number Seven. Seven police units were now either entrenched in front of the bank, behind my car blocking it in, or set up as a perimeter so I couldn't run. Within ten seconds of pulling up, three officers entered the bank. The first officer, Captain Nelson, was a tall, athletic and intimidating woman in her late Thirties. She had laser set eyes that were more green than every non-Irish person in America on St. Patrick's Day. Her nose was oddly small when looking at her from the front, but from the side, it became a perfect triangle. I was mesmerized by it. It was like the world's greatest optical illusion. Stupid me would certainly ask her about it, and get to the bottom of this great mystery. Smart me would keep my mouth shut, being polite and respectful. I still wasn't sure which me was currently in the bank. As I looked over Captain Nelson, l wondered if she could bench press 225lbs twenty-five times, and run the 40 yard dash in 4.5 seconds flat? Is she even human, I thought? She was decked out in tactical gear, and across her chest, was the letter K, followed by the number 9, followed by the word Unit. I could hear her partner going berserk from inside her police cruiser, barking with the fever of a heat speaking missile that was locked in on every illegal item inside my vehicle. Ohhh, this is not good I thought to myself. Things are about to get so much worse.
Nelson was first on the scene and came into the bank, also like a heat speaking missile. What is with these two, Captain Commando and Captain K9? They obviously are having a bad morning I thought, wondering who took a piss in their Alpo and Cheerios. She entered the bank, firing off questions before even making it through the second set of double doors. My head started spinning, my heart started sinking and my mind started swimming. I looked over at the bank teller again, this time he was smirking, obviously at the thought of him being my demise. I composed myself as best I could, opened my mouth to speak, but I couldn't. My lips and throat were as dry as the desert the rattle snake thrives in. Maybe I am the rattle snake.
© JML - Still a Work in Progress
With every step closer I took towards the entrance of the bank, my whole soul became more weighted with an impending sense of destruction and doom. I entered into the bank and immediately noticed that I was the only actual customer in the building. I'd hoped it would be more busy, so I could blend in with other customers, but no such luck. This whole day couldn't be starting any better, I facetiously thought to myself. The eyes of the four bank tellers fell upon me, as a sudden and unexpected chill coursed through my body. They seemed more akin to the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, than just docile bank tellers. I was suspect already, and I knew it. Worse I was an only suspect. This must be how an only child feels whenever she or he breaks the law at home. My clothing choice, which was my only choice of clothing sadly, was not what any self respecting man would wear, to do any sort of business, anywhere, at any time of day. I however, was not a self respecting man. I'm quite certain I wasn't even a respected man at this point. Here I was though, ready to try and sell myself as such. I approached the first teller with check and driver's license in hand. As I got to his window, he looked at me rather bemused and said "How many I help you, sir?". I opened my mouth to talk, suddenly realizing that all the smoking I had done five minutes ago, had dried out my mouth and lips so much, that I could barely speak. "I'd just like to cash this check please", were all the words I could manage to mumble to the teller. "Umm, Okay", he said, now actually amused at what was unfolding before him. He took the check and my license, typed about six different keys on his keyboard, then looked at me, smiled, and said "sir, I'll be just a second, please wait right there". With that he disappeared to the back of the bank.
I stood there for what seemed like an eternity, just watching the bank teller, watching me. I felt like I was at the zoo, watching an oversized rat in an oversized rat enclosure. I wonder what animal he would say he is watching? A snake probably. Snakes eat rats though, no wonder he is keeping his distance. I smirked at the thought of me being his demise. What kind of snake would I be though. A Rattle Snake? No, they like too much dry heat. I do not. An Anaconda? Yeah, I think that's it. A giant, soul squeezing, life sucking Anaconda that could end his day, and his work week with bone crushing force. I shuddered at the thought of being a snake. I despise the serpent with forked tongue so immensely. I sat there half day dreaming, half dreaming, half awake, half asleep, when my personal Apocolypse happened. It happened quickly too. One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six and lucky number Seven. Seven police units were now either entrenched in front of the bank, behind my car blocking it in, or set up as a perimeter so I couldn't run. Within ten seconds of pulling up, three officers entered the bank. The first officer, Captain Nelson, was a tall, athletic and intimidating woman in her late Thirties. She had laser set eyes that were more green than every non-Irish person in America on St. Patrick's Day. Her nose was oddly small when looking at her from the front, but from the side, it became a perfect triangle. I was mesmerized by it. It was like the world's greatest optical illusion. Stupid me would certainly ask her about it, and get to the bottom of this great mystery. Smart me would keep my mouth shut, being polite and respectful. I still wasn't sure which me was currently in the bank. As I looked over Captain Nelson, l wondered if she could bench press 225lbs twenty-five times, and run the 40 yard dash in 4.5 seconds flat? Is she even human, I thought? She was decked out in tactical gear, and across her chest, was the letter K, followed by the number 9, followed by the word Unit. I could hear her partner going berserk from inside her police cruiser, barking with the fever of a heat speaking missile that was locked in on every illegal item inside my vehicle. Ohhh, this is not good I thought to myself. Things are about to get so much worse.
Nelson was first on the scene and came into the bank, also like a heat speaking missile. What is with these two, Captain Commando and Captain K9? They obviously are having a bad morning I thought, wondering who took a piss in their Alpo and Cheerios. She entered the bank, firing off questions before even making it through the second set of double doors. My head started spinning, my heart started sinking and my mind started swimming. I looked over at the bank teller again, this time he was smirking, obviously at the thought of him being my demise. I composed myself as best I could, opened my mouth to speak, but I couldn't. My lips and throat were as dry as the desert the rattle snake thrives in. Maybe I am the rattle snake.
© JML - Still a Work in Progress
