abigail414's diaryland diary
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Stick-up Sunday
It is a sunny Sunday and I was going to write an entry about seeing a pop star's dogs, having a cat lens fall out in my hand, and the fun shenanigans at the Village Fest in downtown Palm Springs (where I bought a custom hula hoop this week). But my day was interrupted by a masked gunman.
At 3 pm on a Sunday afternoon, I was at my storage space 1/2 mile from my house, paying my bill in the office, when a guy walked in with a gun. I'm still reeling from the experience, which, believe it or not I've had before at age 15 (also in Southern California). He was covered from head to toe, was tall, with a large blue/black gun, deep voice, and relaxed manner. When I saw him enter the office, gun in hand, blue striped cloth on his face, sunglasses, hat, coat, I said 'shit' and started to walk out the other door. I was not going to have this reality. This was not happening, it was an abberation, an hallucination of a fear-riddled mind. After all, the trees were blooming, there were hummingbirds everywhere, I was wearing my 'Life is Good' T shirt, it was a peaceful Sunday. But when I tried to walk out, he put his hand on my back, the gun flush against my side (pointed at the cashier), and said I wasn't going anywhere. His hand was large and the gun was solid. Yes, this was real. (But, I found myself asking 'what would Xena do', as if I could somehow disarm him, kick him, and get away - as if it was an action scene in a movie. I talked myself back into reality, understanding that I did not have Xena's skills.) He told the lady behind the counter he wanted the money, and when she wasn't fast enough or didn't produce enough, he directed me behind the counter as he went through the cash drawer with her. I kept my eye on the door, inching that direction, trying to get away from him, from the gun, but he noticed my shifting and would say, don't move, stay right there. He didn't seem stoned, didn't have any accent, and I couldn't tell you what he looked like. I looked everywhere but at him and his gun, searching for a place to hide if his frustration about the small amount of money ($106) prompted a shooting spree. I did remember to pray 'dear god please don't let him kill us'. I offered him my wallet on the counter, he thumbed through it and said 'where's the money' and I said I had credit cards, he could have it, I could get him money. The things you say when you think you will die. He said 'I don't want to hurt anyone, I just want cash'. Then he left.
The cashier called 911 and I left out the back door and crawled into a space and sobbed and shook and realized how absolutely terrified I had been. Then I got pissed off. Not only had I peed my pants while behind the counter, I had stuff in my car to put away and wasn't going to sit there waiting for the cops and ruin the rest of my day. So I got in my car, was shaking so badly that I barely got the key into the ignition, entered my storage code, found my space, unlocked it, and threw my stuff in there while sobbing and cursing. When I returned to the office, the cops had arrived and I talked with them. I had seen a car prior to the robbery, and the police dog confirmed the guy's trail to the car. Couldn't tell them much about the guy, though. I went home, called some people, and spray painted my lawn furniture (and myself and my garage) green.
So, I guess this will be an interesting week. Besides working 5 days in a row, I'll probably be feeling some aftershocks from this incident. It has forced me to call some local people for support, and is triggering unresolved feelings from the teenage robbery and all the other times I was a 'victim'. It is a huge emotional shock to the system when you think that you might die at any moment - and while that was happening I realized I just wasn't ready. This is at least the 4th time I've experienced that feeling - another reminder that this is a finite life. Any moment it may be gone. So, while I'm here, I not only need to have meaningful work, but a support network (besides dogs, cats, and long-distance friends). I'm off to visit one of the few people I know here. Thanks for checking in.
6:59 p.m. - 2006-04-02
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
other diaries: |
