Craig’s List and Inner Tubes- A Bank Robbery
William Hrdina
Published by William Hrdina and Fnord Publishing at Smashwords.
Copyright 2011 William Hrdina
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Craig’s List and Inner Tubes- A Bank Robbery
By William Hrdina
A Short Story Inspired by Real Events
I woke up on Monday morning with a hangover. I don’t know if you’ve ever had a hangover- but take it from me- they really suck. Okay, not the most profound observation- but give me a break- I have a hangover. Anyway, as I walked to the bathroom with the sound of blood pounding in my temples, all I could taste in my mouth was a combination of cigarettes, whiskey, and a half pound of cotton balls- all of which made me consider being dead as a preferable alternative to my current state.
Getting up wasn’t easy- I didn’t want to get out of bed. I didn’t even want to move. But in the back of my head, I couldn’t help thinking about my rapidly dwindling bank account. Since I’m a fairly new member of the unemployed masses, I have not yet given up hope. That combined with the fear of homelessness got me up and moving even while my body cried out in protest.
I used to be a road maintenance professional, working primarily on the I-405 corridor, but exactly one month and 8 days ago I was called into my boss’s office and summarily laid off. It was supposed to be some measure of relief to me that there were several hundred other guys laid off at the same time- but I found no joy in the sharing of my suffering. Still, in many ways, I knew I had it better than most- I was still young, single, and didn’t have the burden of hungry children to worry about- a whole lot of other guys weren’t so lucky.
After a few minutes in the bathroom trying to straighten myself out into a human being again, I sat down with my laptop. I had to walk around my apartment a few times, waving the computer around, before I was able to tap into my neighbor’s un-secured wireless internet connection. I didn’t know exactly who my wireless benefactor was- but I was grateful for the connection- without it- I would have to walk three blocks to the Starbucks in order to check my email and continue my ongoing search for employment.
As per my routine, the first place I went was to Craig’s List. After flipping through 3 pages of crap, I found the following unbelievable entry:
WANTED: Road Maintenance Workers
Great Pay $28.50 an hour!
Hiring will be done outside the Bank of America branch in Monroe, Washington at 11am on Tuesday October 1st and work will begin immediately- expected to last 3 days- maybe 4. Please come with safety goggles, a respirator mask, yellow safety vest and preferably a blue shirt- gather on the block around the corner from the Bank branch and await Mr. Crowne who will be your contact.
I couldn’t believe it- $28.50? That was seven dollars more than I was making as a road maintenance worker for the state of Washington. I quickly did the math- that would be $400 for an 8-hour day- $1200 total. Assuming I got paid in cash (hope hope) that would be enough to pay my rent and my bills for another month. You better believe I was excited. It was only temporary so I kept searching throughout the day- but I didn’t find anything even half as lucrative as the Maintenance job promised to be.
Tuesday morning I woke up early, showered, gathered the requested equipment and made my way down to the Bank of America by 10:45. To my chagrin- there was already maybe a dozen guys milling around the area- dressed identically as me. For some reason, we didn’t really clump together. Instead, we kind of fanned out down the street, everyone looking at everyone else and trying to figure out who Mr. Crowne was. In addition to the requested gear, I also carried a slightly wrinkled copy of my resume to try to increase the likelihood I would get the job.
By the time 11 rolled around I was one of about 30 guys, all standing around on the block- all wondering where the guy in charge was.
All of a sudden I heard a loud shout coming from around the corner
Okay, I’m going to break out of the narrative here for a moment and switch perspectives because what happened next would not actually be known to me until much later in the day.
It turns out, the shout was coming from a guard assigned to an armored car parked around the corner from where we were all gathered. The entire area around the bank is under construction, and so the guard didn’t notice when a man, dressed like a worker came up directly behind him. I guess he asked for a light for his cigarette, and when the guard turned to look, he was met with a blinding attack of pepper spray, expertly wielded by the man who intended to rob the armored car.
As the guard clawed madly at his eyes, the robber bent over, yanked out a large bag of cash, hesitated only long enough to yank out the dye pack, and then dumped the whole thing into a backpack before tearing ass away from the guard and the armored car. The driver of the car heard the maced guard yelling for help and came briefly to his aid before giving chase to the robber who’d escaped on foot.
So now we can switch back to me. Right after I heard the yell of the guard, I saw a man come tearing around the corner. The man was dressed exactly as all of us. Safety goggles were perched on his head, a respirator mask dangled around his neck, he was wearing a yellow safety vest and a blue shirt with blue jeans and dirty old white tennis shoes.
None of us knew at the time he was a bank robber, he was just a guy running with a backpack dressed like the rest of us. I personally thought it was pretty weird and I took a few steps to follow him. We all did, which had the effect of all of us turning our backs and closing off the sidewalk to the driver of the armored car who sprinted around the corner about ten seconds after the robber passed.
I watched as the man ran down a littered embankment to the Skykomish river- which was just across the street from where we were standing. The guy reached into a bush lining the water and yanked out a large black inner tube and a yellow plastic oar. With the backpack on his stomach, he began paddling madly down the river where he quickly disappeared around a bend.
That was when I turned around and saw the armored car driver, looking from one man to the next, all of us wearing the same clothes as the man who escaped. The sight had frozen the poor man solid, rendering him completely helpless about what to do.
The robber’s clothes and inner tube were later found washed up on a river bank. I guess they think he was picked up by a boat of some kind. As you could’ve probably guessed, they arrested us all as possible accomplices, but they let us all go pretty quickly once they figured out why we were all there. I guess the authorities are going to try to track down the perpetrators by their Craig’s List record- but I’ve got a feeling they aren’t going to find much- anyone who came up with a plan as good as this guy most assuredly covered his tracks.
One other post-script to this story. I don’t know if the one thing is connected to the other- but about a month after the robbery, I received a single, crisp, $100 bill in the mail. I can’t imagine how the robber or robbers could know my address, but at the same time- I don’t know who else might’ve sent it to me- maybe a long lost aunt or something?
So anyway, that’s the story of what I consider to be the greatest bank robbery in US history. Thanks for listening.