Memoirs of a Cashier #3 (Last)

As I come to a close on this series, I feel I should describe when I was almost robbed by a desperate woman, with a horrible addiction.

Friday night had brought the usual rush of drunken fools, dazzling drug dealers, and an assortment of other crazy customers, but one stood out from the rest. Standing next to the counter, an elderly woman (dressed in three coats) with a large boxy wicker purse stood by the lottery, away from the ever-extending line. Though I was concerned with the customers flooding through the doors, I heard a soft muttering, almost unheard over the raucous.

The woman that stood next to the counter was muttering to herself, sounding like "I need some money. Times are getting harder and harder, and I'm in need of some quick money."

My eyes glanced towards the disheveled appearance, and her hands were tucked inside the purse. Her brown eyes held a reddish hue in the white, and both were set upon me. Slowly, she lifted a folded shirt from her purse, but it seemed to be wrapped around an item of which I had no clue. Continuing her quiet mutterings, she glared at me in an attempt to ascertain the collected bills within my register.

Once shirt rose from her purse,threatening me with mystery, I scanned the nearly hostile mob; no one else had noticed. Smoothly I said, "I can't have you in my store, you're going to have to leave."

With a look of shock, like I hurled an insult her way; she withdrew her purse from the counter, storming from the establishment. A shake of my head, and I returned to work after the nervous ordeal, never to see her again.

I like to think I handled it well, especially not knowing what was held within the bag, but I do still hope she found her way out of her financial struggle. If you are threatened, I hope you luck in finding the safest way out.