FreedomKommando
Member
First, yes, it really happened. It was Friday afternoon at 3:50 pm, July 14th, 2006 at 1905 West Gray Street, Houston, TX 77019. (713) 831-1700.
Usually when I am walking down the sidewalk, I am unobtrusively scanning the people around me, just staying alert in the big city. The way the getaway car was stopped outside the bank - not parked, just stopped with a driver at the wheel - should have tipped me off. I really should have taken a second look, and tried to - no, wrong word - allowed myself to tune into the vibes of the driver. Running it back in my mind I realized the guy was giving off incredibly tense energies.
"There's someone in a hurry," I thought.
But I just wasn't paying attention, instead focusing on cashing my paycheck and meeting my friends later.
So I took three steps into the bank and noticed everyone down on the floor. Guy closest to me looked up, pointed to the door behind me, and mouthed the word "go!" And that's when it hit me. Bank robbery in progress.
I turned around and quickly left the bank. In the parking lot I whipped out my cell phone and dialed 911 to call it in as I turned my head this way and that to see where the closest spot was to take cover. I paused ever so briefly in front of the getaway car to allow my mind to snap a picture of the registration tag, and then ran along the eastern edge of the property and turned the corner into the lube garage. Finally the 911 operator comes on the line to ask me which city I am in. Behind me I hear one of the guys say, "what, someone following you?"
I started talking to the 911 operator right as the getaway car drove past, a rear door opened, and one of the bad guys pointed his gun at me. From behind me, one of the brothers shouts, "gun! get down!" I sink into the NW corner of the garage as I tell the operator Houston, and get transferred to Houston PD.
Car drives off as I give the officer the vehicle description and tag. Everything happened really fast. In a situation like this my sense of time gets really out of whack.
Waited around for the cops to show (at least ten minutes) and then gave a statement.
Some observations.
Yes, I was armed, but I wasn't about to risk my life to protect the bank's federally-insured money. (I dislike banks, and I especially dislike BoA.) So I kept the gun in my pocket.
When I first walked into the bank and saw people on the ground, for a fleeting instant the thought bubbled up in my mind of "what is this, a drill?" I am by no means a blissninny, and yet a bank robbery (or some other crime) just seems so remote from every day life that it just takes a moment for the mind to get it.
Once I realized it was a robbery, my concern was first my own safety, and second calling in a description and tag of the vehicle. Out in the parking lot, my mind was racing. Call it in, get description, look at tag, find cover, quick, here come the bad guys. It's a taste of the type of stressful situation that I bet soldiers find themselves in routinely. After the adrenaline surge, I found myself a bit exhausted. "Damn, I could really go for a drink."
Usually when I am walking down the sidewalk, I am unobtrusively scanning the people around me, just staying alert in the big city. The way the getaway car was stopped outside the bank - not parked, just stopped with a driver at the wheel - should have tipped me off. I really should have taken a second look, and tried to - no, wrong word - allowed myself to tune into the vibes of the driver. Running it back in my mind I realized the guy was giving off incredibly tense energies.
"There's someone in a hurry," I thought.
But I just wasn't paying attention, instead focusing on cashing my paycheck and meeting my friends later.
So I took three steps into the bank and noticed everyone down on the floor. Guy closest to me looked up, pointed to the door behind me, and mouthed the word "go!" And that's when it hit me. Bank robbery in progress.
I turned around and quickly left the bank. In the parking lot I whipped out my cell phone and dialed 911 to call it in as I turned my head this way and that to see where the closest spot was to take cover. I paused ever so briefly in front of the getaway car to allow my mind to snap a picture of the registration tag, and then ran along the eastern edge of the property and turned the corner into the lube garage. Finally the 911 operator comes on the line to ask me which city I am in. Behind me I hear one of the guys say, "what, someone following you?"
I started talking to the 911 operator right as the getaway car drove past, a rear door opened, and one of the bad guys pointed his gun at me. From behind me, one of the brothers shouts, "gun! get down!" I sink into the NW corner of the garage as I tell the operator Houston, and get transferred to Houston PD.
Car drives off as I give the officer the vehicle description and tag. Everything happened really fast. In a situation like this my sense of time gets really out of whack.
Waited around for the cops to show (at least ten minutes) and then gave a statement.
Some observations.
Yes, I was armed, but I wasn't about to risk my life to protect the bank's federally-insured money. (I dislike banks, and I especially dislike BoA.) So I kept the gun in my pocket.
When I first walked into the bank and saw people on the ground, for a fleeting instant the thought bubbled up in my mind of "what is this, a drill?" I am by no means a blissninny, and yet a bank robbery (or some other crime) just seems so remote from every day life that it just takes a moment for the mind to get it.
Once I realized it was a robbery, my concern was first my own safety, and second calling in a description and tag of the vehicle. Out in the parking lot, my mind was racing. Call it in, get description, look at tag, find cover, quick, here come the bad guys. It's a taste of the type of stressful situation that I bet soldiers find themselves in routinely. After the adrenaline surge, I found myself a bit exhausted. "Damn, I could really go for a drink."
. That's where I used to pay my mobile phone bill. Unfortunately I have an account at BA
