Robbed

Robbed

“Jesus Christ.”

“It’s like.. I’ve seen less campy performances at the drag bar. Am I right?”

“You’re so right. Like, did the balaclava have to be pink? What is this, Spring Breakers?”

“All he needs is a bikini!”

“RIGHT!?”

“Right.”

“I’m Ama.”

“Connor.”

The robber came over to where Ama and Connor were sitting. Their hands and legs were zip-tied together, and they were crammed under a table.

“If you shitbags don’t keep it down, I’ll shoot your fucking dicks off,” he said.

“I’m a dyke,” said Ama. “I left my dick at home.”

Connor cracked up at that. The robber swung his gun around a little, waving it between the two. “You think this is funny?”

           He fired a warning shot into the bank ceiling. “Next time you won’t get a warning.”

           The robber returned to the teller, just out of earshot.

           “Ooooh, no warning,” said Connor.

           “Whatever will we do without a warning?” asked Ama.

           “I’m glad he didn’t shoot my dick off,” said Connor. “I wouldn’t be a very useful top without it.”

           “Stop thinking about ass! We might die in this stupid bank.”

           “Exactly. Better use every second we have left thinking about ass,” said Connor.

           “Holy shit. You’re right,” said Ama. “You got an ass at home?”

           “I’m between asses,” said Connor.

           “What a way to be,” said Ama.

           “You?”

           “Yeah. My wife would kill me if she knew I was taunting some random criminal.”

           “Ah, a wife. My mom always wanted me to get one of those,” said Connor.

            “Mm. Not very supportive?”

           “I’m from Mississippi.”

           “Ah. I didn’t notice an accent?”

           “I try to erase any part of myself that might tie me to that hell hole.”

           “Hot,” said Ama. “What brought you to the true north strong and free?”

           “The bank robbers.”

           “Ha! He is kinda hot isn’t he? If you’re into that sort of thing.”

           “I’d let him spit on me,” said Connor. “Only if he keeps the mask on, though.”

           “Do you think he’s one of us?” asked Ama.

           “Hey!” Connor shouted at the robber. “Quick question!”

           “Don’t!” Ama whispered, giggling.

           The robber was in the middle of guiding a frightened bank teller to the safe.

           “I’m telling you two one more time. If you can’t keep your FUCKING mouths shut, I’ll shoot you in the mouths!” He guided the teller into a back room, his gun between her shoulders. “I won’t think twice!”

           “He wants my mouth and my dick,” said Connor.

           “I think we have our answer,” said Ama, laughing.

           The other hostages were starting to give Connor and Ama dirty looks through tears.

           “What about you?” asked Connor.

           “What about me what?”

           “Have you always lived here?”

           “Oh,” said Ama. “No. I’m from Sri Lanka.”

           “Oh shit!” said Connor. “Maybe this is a dumb question, but what brought you here?”

           “The beavers.”

           Connor laughed so hard he broke his zip-tie.

           “Oh shit.” He looked at Ama, eyes wide.

           “Oh my god,” she said.

           Connor fished his keys out of his pocket and started on cutting through Ama’s zip-ties.

           “Dude! Do your legs first,” Ama said, laughing.

           “Oh shit,” Connor said again.

           He managed to get all the ties broken.

           “What now?” Ama asked, smiling.

           “Iced coffee?” Connor whispered, smiling too.

           The two crawled out from under the table. Connor glanced at the back room. It looked like the robber and teller were still busy working on the safe.

           Ama looked as well, looked at Connor and shrugged. They crouched and slowly walked to the door. The robber still hadn’t noticed.

           Connor pushed the door open and the bell chimed. Something made a ‘clunk’ sound in the room with the safe and the two new friends could hear the robber start to run out into the main room. They ran as fast as they could and kept running until they were down the street and around the corner.

           They went into the nearest store, which happened to be a coffee shop, so that they wouldn’t be noticed out on the street. Then, coffees in hand, they forgot the reason they’d gone into the shop in the first place and took a seat on the patio. All of a sudden it looked like they were having a normal day.

           “You’re pretty cool,” said Connor.

           “Thanks,” said Ama. “You’re not so bad yourself. Nice work with those zip-ties.”

           “You did that! Beavers. God, I haven’t laughed that hard in like, a year.”

           “You know, that robber could have really used a partner,” said Ama.

           “Yeah. He had nobody keeping an eye on the hostages. I bet he doesn’t have a getaway driver, either. Hasn’t he seen Baby Driver?”

           “Yeah! Good soundtrack.”

           “Hot lead.”

           “Ew! Ansel Elgort is aptly named in that movie. Literal baby. Though I’d give my left tit for Eiza González. Don’t tell my wife.”

           “I kinda hope he gets the money though,” said Connor.

           “Yeah,” said Ama. “I agree. Fuck big capital.”

           “If he is gay, maybe we’ll see him at Woody’s.”

           “He’ll owe us a drink, that’s for sure.”

           “Or twelve. Body shots, I hope.”

           “Why do I kind of want a balaclava now?”

           “Right?! Which Breaker would you be?”

           “Huh?”

           “Like from the movie. Which Spring Breaker are you? I’d like to think of myself as Vanessa Hudgens, but sadly I think I’m more Selena Gomez.”

           “Where’s Buzzfeed when you need it?”

           “Right?!”       

           “I wanna be Franco, rolling in a bed of money,” Ama said. “Plus I could actually rock the cornrows, unlike James.”

           Connor nodded in agreement.

           The two sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping their drinks.

           Out of the blue, they smiled at each other.

           “What now?”

           “We buy balaclavas.”

           “I’m getting my hair done.”

           “Gonna finally live up to my Be Gay, Do Crimes bumper sticker.”

           “Guns?”

           “I’ll figure something out. My whole family’s republican. It’s in my blood.”

           “We’ll need a driver. I’ll convince my wife.”

           “When?”

           Ama took a long sip of her drink, sucking in air as she finished it. “Soon.”

           “Soon,” Connor agreed.