Two Gunmen, No Poker

The first part of this blog is about the dumbass from yesterday. I harbor a lot of anger at him, and I push some of it off on society as well. I hate the kid because he thought he was the only person who has had a bad life. He might have had legitimate psychological issues, but I haven't heard anything about that. If he wasn't schizophrenic then I'll hate him for the few days I remember him. His feelings that everything were going wrong are simply stupid. Every person alive has dealt with hard times. I've never been estranged from my family, but I have had the chemicals in my brain conspire to try and get me to hurt myself. I have friends that have battled with drugs, abusive parents, poverty, everything, and yet, I don't know a single mass-murderer. Why? Because all of the people I know are strong. And realistic. They realize that only maybe 5% of people get to lead their life EXACTLY how they want to, and the rest of us have to make compromises. They realize that even though their life sucks right now, there are people out there who have it worse. To the dead murderer: get over yourself. I feel for his family and those of the victims, but I feel that we've gone far enough in this world. He wanted to go out in style? Publicly desecrate his body. Take the glamor out of it. See how many "my mommy didn't hug me enough" types want to go on shooting sprees when CNN devotes 24 hours to torturing their dead body. Feel nauseous at that thought? You should. Everyone should. That's the point. Or, if you don't like this idea, let's go 1984 on these people. I'm not talking a lack of news coverage, I'm saying let's wipe them off the planet like they never existed. It would be better for all of us if they didn't. I want guys in black swat gear covertly stealing year books. I want birth records burned. I want his McDonald's employee of the month nameplate replaced with the dude on the fry-o-lator who really deserved it. I'm tired of giving these assholes the news coverage that they want. I want to be famous too, so why do I have to try and use my brain to achieve this? For every mass-shooting we should have a special on teachers who have won teaching awards. Or community service awards. Stop glamorizing shitbags for a change and see where we end up. It has to be better than where we are.

The second part of this blog is about how I got robbed at work today. A guy walked in and pulled a gun on a girl and myself. It took exactly 45 seconds from the moment he walked in to the moment he walked out. I had weird thoughts when he pointed the gun at me. No "oh shit I'm going to die." I thought about how I jinxed myself because on Wednesday I was arguing with Jeff about how dangerous his brother's job really is. His brother John is a police officer in Plattesmouth. The exact phrase I used with Jeff was "We work in banks in Omaha, your brother works in Plattesmouth. We're twice as likely to get a gun pulled in our faces than he is." I hate being right sometimes. This thought passed through my brain while the robber was there. I wanted to laugh, however it seemed inappropriate. Another thought I had: when he pointed the gun at me, I looked at the opening at the end of the barrel and thought "At least it's small caliber." Apparently it makes a difference to me if I'm getting robbed with a .45 or a .22. I tried to give him all of my rolls of coin because he told me to give him everything. He told me he didn't want it and I was confused for a moment because I was wondering why he wouldn't just say "Give me all of the bills." I almost laughed when I realized that pretty much any bank robber doesn't want twenty pounds of rolled coin to lug with them when they're trying to get away. I almost laughed again when the girl tried to give him her rolls of coin too. Everybody in my bank is totally fine. The other three people there were out of sight and remained so during the robbery, which made everything go more smoothly. There are a couple of things that are still bothering me, the foremost of which is that it didn't really bother me. My hand shook for about two minutes after it happened, but then I was fine. I'm still fine. I took a nap when I got home because I haven't been getting much sleep, and I didn't have nightmares. I'm not any jumpier than normal. I am paying more attention to people's voices now because it's the only distinguishing thing that I had to go on. The robber, no, the douche bag was totally covered from head to foot in dark clothes with his face totally concealed. Aside from height and weight, I only heard his voice. I'm also sort of selfishly upset that it didn't make the news at all. I realize that in the aftermath of the mall shooting, nobody gives a shit that I got a gun stuck in my face, but it's big fucking news to me, thus I want to see it on the actual news. "Local bank robbed at gunpoint, nobody injured." I don't want my name in there, just an acknowledgment that I indeed did get robbed. Just so you all know, I can't tell you how much money got stolen, so don't ask. Suffice it to say it wasn't bad for 45 seconds work.