Status: Even I get board.
A Day in the Life
Chapter the Only.
You know I used to be a professional I used to be respectable. Now I’m nothing more than low down scum. I’m a robber, a bank robber. I’m quite the regular at the bank, you see. Every Saturday the bank truck comes with all the money and gold bars. Every truck comes with a matching pair of guards. The guards stick around till Monday. They catch all the desperate ones. The ones who can’t wait or think they are brilliant. Brilliance means they want to be caught. I’ve never been caught, and probably never will.
I do all sorts of jobs throughout the week. I also pick up my unemployment check on Monday at five am. On Thursday at 7:00 I’m selling drugs to the neighborhood kids. On Wednesdays I get paid for selling the drugs and pick up some more. I’m actually on good terms with the dealer. I just do that as a favor because he doesn't have the time. Tuesdays are my favorite day of the week. So let's walk through one of my favorite days of the week.
Every Tuesday I wake up at six am to my alarm on my iPhone (my bell is Shadow of the Day by Linkin Park). I do regret the purchase of the apple product. I’m a robber not a bad person. I pull myself out of bed by six thirty at the latest. I make myself a breakfast consisting of two eggs on toast. I rinse my dishes and add them to the stack. (I run the machine every other day). I pull on some sweatpants and a shirt and stroll to the 7-11 store on the corner. I pick up a newspaper and a pop (Generally a Mountain Dew: Voltage). I take a walk in the park till eight, then I walk back home. I go to my room and open up my closet. I reach beneath the fallen cloths and pull out my ski mask. I put that in the black backpack next to my bed. I stand up and reach into the top of my closet for the brown nondescript shoe box. I remove the shoes (all black DC sneakers) and put them on the floor in front of me. Underneath them is my gun and knives. I check the clip on my gun to make sure it's filled. It always is; I never have to use it. I pull out my black tracksuit out of the closet. I put that on and put half of my knives in my backpack. I pull on a hoodie (it's grey) I put the rest of my knives in my pockets along with my gun (I got big pockets). I put on the shoes and grab my backpack and walk out the door.
Outside I get on my blue bike. I bike into town and park my bike at the library. I lock it. And walk into the alley. I pull off my hoodie, pull on my mask, and continue on to the bank. I pass three of my Thursday night clients’ houses on the way there. The dirt and grime of the ally is apparent on my sneakers.
I arrive outside the bank at noon. Right on time. I walk boldly in the front doors. The cameras don't bother me. They can't do anything. After all if they try I have a hacker friend. He’ll wipe the tapes later. Today the bank is busier Than normal. Doesn’t matter I’ll wait my turn. I stand in Teller Two’s line this time. Her name is Jane. She’s a nice girl, her little brother is one of my clients on Thursday nights. Such a shame, I liked that family. I have to wait ten minutes behind the four people in front of me. Finally I get up there.
“You again?” she asks.
“Yup, it’s that time of the day. You know the drill. Bring all the money out or I’ll have to shoot.” I find myself replying. Same thing i said the last dozen times. maybe i need a new line.
She motions to one of the other tellers and he pulls out his drawer and dumps the cash on the floor in the back. I jump over the counter. And pull out my gun. John the other teller goes into the back to the vault.
“You missed it,” she says, “yesterday we had almost twice what we have now.”
“Ah well, I’m not trying to become rich. How’s Bobby?”
“Oh he's fine,” she says, “he stayed out late again last Thursday. Mom was kinda worried”
“Again?” I ask incredulously, because I’m a brilliant actor. I know where he was. “For what reason?”
“I don't know. My parents kinda freaked out though. He came back a bit loopy.”
“He’d better watch out. He might get hurt sometime.” I know he will. He made my supplier mad.
“OK! THATS ALL OF IT!” Yells John.
I divide the pile in half and grab a bag from the counter. I shovel the pile into the bag. Only about half the pile I picked fits.
“Keep the rest for a rainy day!” I say joyous in my gain. I swing over the counter. “Until next week my dears! Adieu!” I say to the workers.
I walk back to the alley and grab my bag. I stuff the cash in my bag and continue with a new weight on my back to the library. At the library I go over and open up my lock (15-2-19) and ride home. Once home I'll crack open a drink and get in a good night’s rest.
Rob, rinse then repeat. That’s the daily grind.
I do all sorts of jobs throughout the week. I also pick up my unemployment check on Monday at five am. On Thursday at 7:00 I’m selling drugs to the neighborhood kids. On Wednesdays I get paid for selling the drugs and pick up some more. I’m actually on good terms with the dealer. I just do that as a favor because he doesn't have the time. Tuesdays are my favorite day of the week. So let's walk through one of my favorite days of the week.
Every Tuesday I wake up at six am to my alarm on my iPhone (my bell is Shadow of the Day by Linkin Park). I do regret the purchase of the apple product. I’m a robber not a bad person. I pull myself out of bed by six thirty at the latest. I make myself a breakfast consisting of two eggs on toast. I rinse my dishes and add them to the stack. (I run the machine every other day). I pull on some sweatpants and a shirt and stroll to the 7-11 store on the corner. I pick up a newspaper and a pop (Generally a Mountain Dew: Voltage). I take a walk in the park till eight, then I walk back home. I go to my room and open up my closet. I reach beneath the fallen cloths and pull out my ski mask. I put that in the black backpack next to my bed. I stand up and reach into the top of my closet for the brown nondescript shoe box. I remove the shoes (all black DC sneakers) and put them on the floor in front of me. Underneath them is my gun and knives. I check the clip on my gun to make sure it's filled. It always is; I never have to use it. I pull out my black tracksuit out of the closet. I put that on and put half of my knives in my backpack. I pull on a hoodie (it's grey) I put the rest of my knives in my pockets along with my gun (I got big pockets). I put on the shoes and grab my backpack and walk out the door.
Outside I get on my blue bike. I bike into town and park my bike at the library. I lock it. And walk into the alley. I pull off my hoodie, pull on my mask, and continue on to the bank. I pass three of my Thursday night clients’ houses on the way there. The dirt and grime of the ally is apparent on my sneakers.
I arrive outside the bank at noon. Right on time. I walk boldly in the front doors. The cameras don't bother me. They can't do anything. After all if they try I have a hacker friend. He’ll wipe the tapes later. Today the bank is busier Than normal. Doesn’t matter I’ll wait my turn. I stand in Teller Two’s line this time. Her name is Jane. She’s a nice girl, her little brother is one of my clients on Thursday nights. Such a shame, I liked that family. I have to wait ten minutes behind the four people in front of me. Finally I get up there.
“You again?” she asks.
“Yup, it’s that time of the day. You know the drill. Bring all the money out or I’ll have to shoot.” I find myself replying. Same thing i said the last dozen times. maybe i need a new line.
She motions to one of the other tellers and he pulls out his drawer and dumps the cash on the floor in the back. I jump over the counter. And pull out my gun. John the other teller goes into the back to the vault.
“You missed it,” she says, “yesterday we had almost twice what we have now.”
“Ah well, I’m not trying to become rich. How’s Bobby?”
“Oh he's fine,” she says, “he stayed out late again last Thursday. Mom was kinda worried”
“Again?” I ask incredulously, because I’m a brilliant actor. I know where he was. “For what reason?”
“I don't know. My parents kinda freaked out though. He came back a bit loopy.”
“He’d better watch out. He might get hurt sometime.” I know he will. He made my supplier mad.
“OK! THATS ALL OF IT!” Yells John.
I divide the pile in half and grab a bag from the counter. I shovel the pile into the bag. Only about half the pile I picked fits.
“Keep the rest for a rainy day!” I say joyous in my gain. I swing over the counter. “Until next week my dears! Adieu!” I say to the workers.
I walk back to the alley and grab my bag. I stuff the cash in my bag and continue with a new weight on my back to the library. At the library I go over and open up my lock (15-2-19) and ride home. Once home I'll crack open a drink and get in a good night’s rest.
Rob, rinse then repeat. That’s the daily grind.
♠ ♠ ♠
Wrote this because of a grammatical mistake in my Spanish class.