Please take a moment and catch up on my previous posts about my current job. Hello Officer. And Please Don’t Follow me Home.

Caught up? Ok, great.

The jewelry store I work for has two locations; the second location is what we call The Fishbowl, for it has windows on all four walls and two of the walls are completely glass.

I also call it The Great White North for completely unrelated reasons.

One evening, in the not so distant past, my manager and I were pulling the jewelry from the cases and placing them securely in the safe. As we were pulling, Manager (whom we’ll call The Man) asked me to “keep an eye on that basket”.  “That basket” was full of pretty, very expensive things and was laying on top of the case. The Man had left it to carry his handful of other pretty things back to the safe. While this isn’t unusual protocol, my senses are always heightened when we’re pulling jewelery. While we’re very safe about it, it’s by-far our most vulnerable time of day.

I made a joke about the container of gems not doing any tricks and my keeping an eye on it was proving futile. That’s when I looked up. The intent was to do a quick scan through the windows of The Fishbowl, but my eyes stopped short and my heart skipped about 30 beats.

A man was standing outside in the 55 degree weather, wearing a large down black coat, and carrying a large black duffel bag. And he was staring in the window.

As his eyes glanced back and forth between me and “that basket”, I hurriedly picked it up along with what was in my hands and headed back towards the safe. In the threshold between the back of the store and our sales floor, I met The Man who made jokes about dancing.

At this point in time, I didn’t know what to think. Who in their right mind would rob  a store in a busy shopping center that everyone from every angle can see into? What was I supposed to do in this type of situation? The only action running through my mind was to get the stuff in the safe. And maybe hide. So in my type-A, work-mode panic I firmly told The Man to get up front. With a confused look on his face, The Man was still joking about dancing.

“Just get up front. Go. Please.”

Then I hid behind the safe door.

Our creeper ended up merely walking away but not before walking over to another window to stare at me again. After all was shut down, The Man walked me to my car where I collapsed into the drivers seat and locked my doors. Who knew that almost being robbed was so exhausting?

Please take a moment to find the irony between my new job and my old job.


  1. Yeah, it is Rick Morianis. Pre-Honey I Shrunk the Kids. (-: Did you ever watch Strange Brew at my house? I highly recommend renting it from somewhere, having a million people over and watching it.

  2. I saw that picture and immediately starting mentally singing “How much is that creeper in the window? The one with the mad curly hair?”

  3. Pingback: The Thief « not a local

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