I've been standing around the corner from the bank for what seems like a very long time. Staring but trying to look like I'm supposed to be there. When you're standing still concentrating on a target, all your eye-seeingness devoted to that one thing, well...you might not notice what's going on around you. Like people glancing at me in a funny way, looking really fast and then away. I am getting really freaked out.
dumb dumb dumb!
come on you idiot!
I could just turn and go. I could.
But I want that thrill. I do.
So....I have the gun. My ex-husbands'. I have the nylon, you know to put over my head. I think that'll work, I remember seeing robbers in the movies when I was kid and they wore nylons. Scared me actually. Got it in my pocket.
WHERE IS IT? SHIT. Oh, here it is in my pants pocket. Hands are sweaty.
Have a cigarette. Do something, stop looking so obvious, god! You look stupid, you really do, try acting like you're just...waiting for something. Not drugs. For...a ride or whatever.
I don't think this will work. I really don't. I mean, they have alarms and things, I don't know what really, Dogs?? I'm going into this blind, I know that, that's the point actually. It's not desperation. Well maybe it is. It's more like reaching out, seeing how far I can go. What can I actually get away with? I don't have a record, I won't do that much time. I'll use my looks as a commodity in prison.
Bob Fosse himself might dance out right about...now.
There's people coming in and out. Kind of a steady stream of people. Mostly working class type folk.
I don't even know how much money is in there; that will be very cool if I don't get caught!
How do you find yourself in this position? By doing everything early and often; by not having ties to this ball of dirt we're all clinging so foolishly to.
So I find myself here, basically throwing myself into the chaos of the universe! Or maybe I'm a sacrifice to the media gods, they are ever hungry.
For instance, when they print that shadowy picture of me, (and hopefully I'll be in Paris by then)on the internet and in newspapers, millions of eyes will pour over every inch of me and wonder Why? Why?
Don't try to understand, I'll whisper psychically to a chosen few, just enjoy the story.
So I've got to do this thing. My heart is beating so hard.
Ok, maybe i need to count to 10 and just....1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10