Stockholm Syndrome

It was an ordinary day, for most people. When I ran in, there weren’t many people in the café. There was a young girl, no older than seventeen, taking an order. She seemed to be the only waitress there. There were a group of teenage boys in the corner, causing havoc, but they left as soon as I arrived.

What a sense of timing they had.

There was an elderly man, eating alone by the window. I’ll always remember him.

There was a group of young women, four of them, eating their lunch and chatting. Sitting at the table opposite them was another woman, a pregnant one. She was munching on pancakes and reading a magazine.

None of these people noticed me enter the little café. Joe’s, it was called. They were too wrapped up in their own lives. The teenage boys left the café without saying a single word to me.

I decided to make everyone aware of my presence, so I loudly cleared my throat. Unsurprisingly, there was no response. Oh well. Drastic times call for drastic measures. I picked up the nearest table. The young waitress was looking at me strangely, her sapphire blue eyes following the table with curiosity.

I placed the table right in front of the door, and got another few to place next to it. But I only had the attention of the waitress and the old man. I decided to fix this. I bent down and reached towards my foot. The waitress seemed to think I was tying my shoelace, and looked away in disinterest. But the old man saw it. He saw me reach for it, and rushed in to tackle me.

He seemed like a lovely old man. Henry his name was. However he made a big mistake that day.

You should never startle someone when they are reaching for their gun.