The Police Never Came

It was the craziest day at work, ever. And by “ever” I mean EVER. I’m not over exaggerating or being melodramatic.

Maybe a bit.

Most of the events that happened today aren’t overwhelming in their own right, but when you add them together into one, 9-hour time period: mayhem. The first event of the day, however, was unusual and cataclysmic enough to make every other “usual” event just as emotionally taxing as the first.

Today was my day to open the store, so I arrive at the typical, open-the-store time. I unlocked the door and juggled my purse, coffee and computer bag while trying to lock the door behind me. All the time this is happening, the alarm system is giving me the “hey, do something here before I call the cops” beep; I really have no idea how much time it gives you before it does actually call the cops, but I don’t ever want to find out.

What I did find out, is that if you accidentally push the wrong pin in twice, it sets the alarm off.

The alarm in a high-end jewelry store is not a polite, “beepwhistlebeep” that merely gets the attention of all passers-by. It’s an overpoweringly loud whistle-beep-scream-burstyoureardrums noise; it’s designed to incapacitate thieves. Incapacitate. Confuse. Cripple.

By the grace of God, I was able to get the sound to go away. My first reaction was to call my boss and tell him not to worry if the security company calls him. Or the police. Or the FBI. He didn’t pick up his phone, but the security company ended up calling the store. When I answered, the sweetest, most-calm, young gentlemen asked if everything was OK (Thank you Lord, for mystery voices in shining armor). After I told him that I was fine, we asked each other a few questions regarding the system and wished each other a good day.

Then, thanks to the adrenaline crash I was feeling, I sat down and cried. There was nowhere else for the emotion, the adrenaline, the confusion to go, except out through my tear ducts.

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