Always take the long way

Every time, every time I decide to go the long way, something insane happens. Whether it be a bank robbery, a terrorist attack, or a celebrity proposal, I always seemed to be stuck in the middle of something. I couldn’t believe it. A man was literally five feet away from me, aiming a gun at my face, and I was more bored than scared.

That would shock some people, unless they’ve met me. I had an adrenaline disorder, where my body did not produce nearly any adrenaline. So, it made it really difficult to get excited or nervous about anything. Despite the direct threat to my safety and even my life, I remained unphased. 

This would be a life-changing experience for some people, but for me, it was another Monday afternoon. I have had guns pointed at me on 11 different occasions throughout my life. This is saying a lot as I  don’t work in the military or law enforcement. I work in an office building, selling tickets for local movie theaters online.

The first time someone pointed a gun at me, was when I was fifteen. A wanted a serial killer who was all over the news, broke into my house when I was alone, and threatened to shoot me if I called the police. I simply sat down and watched him look out the windows. He had been sighted by neighbors, and police cars were driving by. 

Eventually, I got bored and jumped through a window when he was trying to barricade the door. I called the police and less than an hour later he was dragged out of the house by the SWAT team in handcuffs. 

Anyway, back to the situation at hand. The man who was currently threatening my life was holding up a gas station. Probably some homeless guy, or a drunk. There was probably less than a grand in the register, so it clearly wasn’t a very thought-out “heist.” Anyway, we better rewind to how I got here first. 

For some reason, I always decided to take the long way home. And something “exciting” always happened. This time it was a gas station robbery. I had been walking home from the office building I worked at, which was a mile or so away from my house. But, I decided to take the long route, changing my pathway, every time. Today, I decided to walk in the opposite direction and make a big U to get to my house. 

The fact that it was mid-December and getting close to Christman had even more people wandering the streets. There were rich, poor, young, and old, and an eerie race in the city outside at this time. Despite the icy cold weather. 

The big city was interesting or scary to some people, as there was always something going on, sirens in the distance, people bustling around, homeless people begging, celebrities walking around, and other seemingly exciting events. But, for me, it was almost as boring as sitting at my house and doing nothing. 

Almost nothing brought me excitement, including sky-diving, paragliding, swimming with sharks, or free climbing. All of which I had personally done. So, in an effort to find something that excited me, I wandered around the city for a few hours after work every day. 

I passed homeless camps, donated to five different Santas standing at street corners, and walked eight miles before it started snowing. Slowly and gently at first, the snow quickly turned into a blizzard. Within an hour, most people were off the streets. I decided to call it a day and head home. 

My stomach was grumbling when I got a mile from my house, so I decided to get a burrito from the small convenience store I was walking past. 

I stepped into the store unzipping my thick black coat and attempting to shake some of the snow off. I slid my coat off and set it on a rack on the wall. The man at the counter waved his welcome to me, smiling brightly. I waved back, my face staying in the exact same position it had been in all day, bored. 

I wandered around the store, eventually getting bottled chocolate milk and selecting a bacon and egg burrito off of the buffet-styled warmer in the middle of the store. I walked up to the front and bought my food, and walked to the back of the store where there were several picnic-style tables. 

I sat down and began eating my food. I was the only one in the store other than the cashier, the only one crazy enough to be outside in the winter storm. I finished my burrito and was drinking my milk when another man came into the store. 

The angle I was at allowed me to see off of one of the mirrors on the wall by a small sunglasses display. But, the man couldn't see me without looking in the mirror. The man gazed around the store, before pulling out a black handgun from his coat and leveling it at the cashier. 

The cashier's face went white, and he raised his hands in the air, begging the man not to shoot him. I heard the man yell something about anyone else in the store, and the cashier pointed in my direction. The man swiveled and walked the cashier over to me, keeping the gun on his head. 

“You call the police you're dead,” the robber said in a deep raspy voice. I pulled out my phone and dialed 911. “Hey what are you doing, I’m going to shoot you!” he screamed, spittle flying from his lips. “I wouldn’t. Then you'll be charged with double murder, instead of armed robbery. That’s a lot more jail time,” I explained remaining straight-faced. 

The operator answered after the first ring. The man stepped forward, but the cashier gaining some confidence hit the gun from his hand and tackled him to the ground. He yelled with frustration wrestling the cashier on the ground. I explained the situation to the operator calmly and slowly and then hung up the phone. 

The robber now had the gun in his hand again. “If you try anything like that again I’ll shoot you,” he screamed at the cashier, before turning to me. “Did you actually just call the police!?” he screamed to me. 

“I suggest you run before they get here,” I said, he smacked me across the face with the butt of his gun. I fell to the ground my nose bleeding. He had the cashier empty the drawers of cash into a bag for him. He turned to run out of the store when a woman walked in. 

“Do you hear all the sirens everywhere?” The woman asked as she walked into the store. She turned to run, but the robber grabbed her and yanked her past him. He ran over to the window, and I saw his thin unshaven face brightened by red and blue lights outside the window. 

“Everyone to the back of the store now,” he yelled. Pushing us and the woman who had walked into the store. I looked at the woman, her face was as pale as the cashier's, and she looked terrified. 

The robber shoved us into a small utility closet, and we heard the front door being locked, and the blinds on the widows closing. 

“What do we do?” she asked, grabbing my arm in a panic. My heart skipped a beat as she grabbed my arm. I was a little shocked I felt something hard to explain, maybe the hostage situation had finally triggered something in me, and I was afraid. 

I stuttered with my response, something I had never done before. “I-I’m n-not sure,” I replied. “What if he kills us,” she said fearfully, tears streaming down her face. 

I felt my palms get sweaty. What was this feeling I thought to myself. I had never felt emotions like fear, anxiety, nervousness, or excitement. Only boredom. I realized what it was. 

I wasn't worried for myself, I wasn’t even afraid of getting shot. I was worried about this woman. This lady I had just met. I didn’t think it was possible to feel nervous for someone else. 

I examined the woman. She was probably in her early twenties, my age, with sandy blonde hair, green eyes, and smooth-tanned skin. I felt nervous, I didn’t know what to say to her. I felt panic-stricken, and my chest felt tight. 

“We need to get out of here,” I said to her and the cashier. They both nodded as if that were obvious.  “Is there a back door?” I asked the cashier. He nodded. “There's another door right next to us that leads to the hallway where we keep our storage, there's an emergency exit there. 

“Sir. Come out with your hands, up. Or send the hostages out!” A voice yelled over a megaphone from outside. “Stay back or I will shoot one of them!” the robber screamed back. The door to the closet opened, and he let us out. Pointing the gun at us, he motioned for us to stay still. 

“If they come in here, I will shoot you!” he yelled at us. The lady was behind me, and I could hear her crying harder. I tried to drown out these new emotions I was feeling, but they overpowered everything else. 

It didn’t make any sense, being shot at didn’t scare me, but losing this woman I had just met was terrifying. I knew what I had to do. I breathed in slowly and carefully clearing my head. One of the advantages of not getting stressed is that I could always think clearly. I really needed that right now, if I was going to get her out safely. 

“When I move you guys run,” I whispered to them. The cashier and woman both looked scared, but nodded their understanding. I looked at the robber, and the second he looked toward the police cars, I made my move. 

Throwing my body forward I tackled him to the ground. He pulled the trigger as we went down, and the sound made my ears ring. In the back of my mind, I was aware of the woman and cashier running out the back door, and the police shattering the windows to get inside. But, I was too distracted by the sudden rush of emotion. 

The gun hadn’t hit me, or anyone else. It wasn’t the robber that stressed me out or the fact that I tackled a man with a gun or the danger or anything to do with the actual robbery. My mind was with whether or not the woman had seen the courageous act. My face turned bright red at the thought, and I felt it. The adrenaline rushed through me. I hadn’t felt this much of it ever. I was excited, terrified, nervous, embarrassed, happy, sad, mad, and pumped up all at the same time. 

The police pulled me off and were talking to me. The robber had knocked himself out on the tile when we went down. So, they were cuffing him and getting his gun. They asked me if I was ok, and several other questions.

But my mind was occupied with more important things. This woman had caused something that skydiving, paragliding, swimming with sharks, and free-climbing never had. She made me nervous.