Bank Job

I was at the end of my rope. If I didn't do something today we were going to be out on the street. That was all there was to it. You could dress it up any way you wanted to, but that's what it came down to. I took one more shot at the job center/welfare office. The bank was right down the street, and I had everything I needed for the job. The lady behind the desk looked at me like I was a bug on her club sandwich. She made me feel like just what I was, one more out of work slob keeping her from what she really wanted to do. One more coat of nail polish. I knew what I was going to have to do already. No matter what happened here today I wasn't going to get what I needed, cash. I was only putting off what I had already decided to do. The savings were gone, and I had made way too much money in the last year. Just as I thought, they weren't going to help me with assistance. On to the job placement assistance desk I went. Half an hour later I broke free of the gravitational pull of the "job center". I could feel it pulling at my back like a desperate man grasping at his last chance for life. As easy as it would be to sit in the air conditioned office looking at row after row of minimum wage jobs staring back at me from one of the too small computer desks, I knew I was only stalling. As I walked back to my truck butterflies started up in my belly. Something I was going to get quite used to, but never enjoy, over the months ahead. They stayed with me as I drove the short distance down the street past what I would forever think of as "my first bank". I parked my truck a half a block straight down from the bank, and went through it one more time in my head. OK, the truck was out of view of the bank, just around the corner of a low end mechanics shop, so they couldn't I.D. me that way. I pulled out my "disguise" something I had well thought out. Baseball hat, geeky shades, and a loud Hawaiian shirt, anything to draw attention. My plan was, make the description easy for them, then pull it back off out of their line of sight. I rolled it up and tucked it under my arm, (didn't want to be seen in it around my truck) and walked the half block to the bank...
F.Michael Sigler