Gun Pointed At My Face

Four hours ago, my leasing office was robbed.  There were two guys.  The tall one pointed a gun at my face while the other told me not to say anything and asked where the money was.  The gun had a long barrel.  The whole thing took thirty seconds and happened four hours ago … and I’m still shaking.

I remember the two guys wore sweats.  I remember they had on ski masks.  I remember the one that talked had an Arabic accent.  I remember they were both medium build and either in their late teens or early twenties.  I remember the gun wasn’t a revolver; it had a clip.

What I don’t remember is what color the sweats were.  I know they were a neutral color, meaning they were something like light gray or dark blue or black.  But I don’t remember the exact color; I just know they weren’t an obnoxious one like red or yellow.

I also don’t remember if they wore gloves.  I told the police I “thought” they did but I couldn’t swear it.  The more I think about it, I’m pretty sure they did.  Like 90% sure.  I think.

I don’t know how tall the tall one was.  I was sitting and they were constantly moving, making a shushing sound and telling me not to say anything and to tell them where the money was.  The shorter one wasn’t necessarily short, but he was shorter than the other one.  I guess that’s always the case though, if you really want the truth.

Medium build. It sounds so vague now that I’ve said it fifty different times to policemen on the scene.  But it’s pretty accurate.  They weren’t stocky like me and they weren’t skinny.  They were medium build.  And now that I think about it, they’re probably the size I was at that age, the size most guys are at that age.  Medium.

The cops asked what kind of shoes the two guys wore.  I don’t know.  I never saw their feet.  Didn’t think to look.  Although I’ll say that I’m pretty sure they wore shoes.  Like 90% sure.  I think.

I also can’t remember what color the gun was.  The cops asked me if it was black or chrome but I have no idea.  I remember seeing the gun but not its color.  I do remember the gun had a hole in the end pointed at me.

That much I definitely remember.

I also remember seeing it wave around a lot.  It also pointed at me a lot.  In fact, for the entire amount of time, the gun was either pointed at me or waving at me.  I could tell the cops that much, positively.

On the way out the door, one of the guys (I don’t remember which one) came back in and hesitated before grabbing my mobile phone.  I said, “Not my phone.  It’s got my whole life on it.”  I remember thinking the reason he hesitated was because he didn’t want me to have the ability to call the police.  That’s when I told him, “Just leave it outside when you go.”

I know it sounds crazy but when I said that, we had an understanding.  I know this because he nodded at me and then took off.

I sat in my chair for another thirty seconds, not moving, not sure of what to do.  Finally, I got up and opened the door.  I figured they had to be long gone by now.

I walked outside and found my phone lying in the carefully landscaped weeds.  I picked it up by the sides so the cops could try for fingerprints, even though I was pretty sure the guys wore gloves.  I still think they wore them, although now that I write this, I have a visual of him scooping up my phone without gloves.  I can see in my mind that he didn’t have trouble picking it up, like someone with gloves would.

It’s ironic.  My mobile phone was sitting three inches from the landline phone.  He didn’t touch that or even think about it.  I guess he was pretty nervous also.

I’ve always scoffed at TV show witnesses.  They never seem to give accurate descriptions of what they’ve seen.  They always say “medium build” or “normal size” or something equally bland.  I used to think it was the writers being lazy.

I know different now.

It’s because of the adrenaline crashing through your system.  It’s the skewing of time in ways not imaginable.  Mainly though, it’s because the wrong end of a gun is pointed at your face and when all is said and done, that’s the only thing you truly remember.