When to Rob Someone at the ATM 3

Today I walked to the ATM at the Bank of America on Sunset. As I was walking through the long parking lot, a guy got out of his car and started walking up to the machine, so we both approached it, with him being about two steps ahead of me as we closed in on it.

This guy looked like your average wannabe tough guy, he drove a Mustang, had a buzz-cut, sleeveless shirt, and barbed-wire tattoo. It might sound like I’m making this up, but I’m not – this guy was a cartoon.

So, I am standing there waiting for him to start using the machine and he gives me a really suspicious look, contemplates something in his stupid head, and then says,

“Hey, why don’t you go ahead.”

I immediately know what is going on. Even though I’m wearing expensive jeans and a standard T-shirt, this guy, for some reason, thinks there’s a chance I might wait for him to withdraw his money, and then rob him – at 4:30 p.m. on a Tuesday.

What really pissed me off about this situation is that he is now putting the onus on me. I hadn’t thought about robbing anyone or being robbed all day.

Now, this guy gets to decide, hey, I irrationally think someone is going to rob me, so why don’t I tell them to go first, and since robbery is now on their mind, I’ll stand behind THEM looking like a tough guy.

What you’re saying here is If ANYONE is going to be doing some robbing, it’s going to be ME!

How do I know you’re not a robber? Are you saying that something about you makes you less likely to commit a random act of violence than me? Because to that I say FUCK YOU and I might just stab you based on general principle.

I’m going to tell you what I actually did and then what I should have done, which I angrily thought about on my way home.

What I actually did was roll my eyes at the guy, smirk at him to passive-aggressively convey the fact that he’s a poser pussy idiot, and go about my transaction.

What I should have done was say,

“Nah, you go first”

And then stood behind him, waited for him to leave the machine, punched him in his stomach and said,

“You’re not that important! I noticed you took out forty bucks! Keep it!”

And then walked away.

What if I was also a loser? Would we both just stand there all day, waiting for someone to make a move and eventually call the police to supervise our little transactions and escort us home?

Tough Guy – maybe you should stop acting like a pussy and try to go about your pathetic day without thinking that every lanky white guy wants to jack your overdrafted wages, poser prick.