The Night Job

Debacles aplenty

The job was easy. Or so it would seem. Steal the restaurant van, drive it up to this gas station and loot the place. Return the van before dawn and walk away

Yeah, right

He pointed to the van and dangled the keys in front of me. We crept up, I stayed in the shadows until he had the back door open. Then ran and hopped inside. First stop? Right back to his fucking house. Yeah, he forgot our drugs. We sped off toward our destination which was an hour away in the cuts. We’ve tried this joint before and got ran up on. We got away with our hearts beating hard.

This time was different because we stole a van first. I shook my head. I was in it for the heroin. Calmness meant drugs, drugs meant keeping my madness at bay.

We drove to the site which was clear and right next to the freeway. He pulled up and looked at me. Okay, we are a go. We both jumped out and tried prying the door open, for what seemed like an eternity. My heart was pounding like always as I kept an eye out.

No luck

But he had an idea. Ram the fucking for door down with the van to the restaurant we stole with the fucking name plastered on the side as big as the damn door. Yeah, way to go.

But it worked

The alarms were screaming and we jumped in. He said grab all the carton of smokes and lighters. No cash, this was a trade off. Okay, some bullshit but whatever. We filled two duffle bags full of smokes and lighters. Big duffle bag.

Then we see headlights. Not a cop

We hightailed it out of there. Now we hear sirens. He’s speeding down the empty freeway and I’m stuffing strays back in the bag. We get away. Mission accomplished.

Nope

He wants to hit another joint. The sun is up now. Seven a.m. But fuck it, right? Freedom is overrated anyways. He picked a restaurant of all places. The parking lot was empty and he pulled up next to the dumpster bins. Perfect. No one can see our big white van now. He hopped out and I motioned that I’m staying. One was enough. He takes off. I get out and smoke, hidden from view. I climb back in when I’m done and he’s back in the van. What the fuck? That was quick. The doors are all open, no one is home. Wow. He suckers me in. We are covered head to toe, I might add. Masks and all. They wouldn’t be able to ID us.

So he has me rifling through cabinets in both managers’ offices. He’s looking for the safe. No such luck.

Now he wants the cash?

He walks up behind me and stutters. I turn around to have a lady, the assistant, standing before me. He tells me to throw her on the ground and make her stay. Umm, no. This lady is probably scared shitless. So I tell her we aren’t going to harm her. In fact, we’re looking for something my brother stole from me and likely hidden in here. She smiles at me. We bolt.

Screeching out of the parking lot, we look back to see her on the phone. Damn. She called the cops. And I was nice and all. Oh well. Again with the sirens. But far behind. I’m frantically switching my clothes and ready to ditch my other ones. He’s frantically driving, trying to figure out where to stash the van because it’s well passed nine a.m. and we can’t very well return the van now, can we?

Eureka!

He takes us to a park. Mind you, a park far from anywhere we had been and no one was there. We clean everything out. Clean all prints and quickly leave. We stash our goods but then realize our phones have died and we have no chargers. We can’t call our ride out. I laugh. What a fucking night. We decide to stash the goods and walk five miles to the nearest food joint. It seems he did come up with some cash and decides to split it with me because he’s a stand up guy. Seriously, folks, it’s real. We get to a burger joint and chow down. Then continue to wait out six more hours before we finally get home.

I can finally rest.