A couple of weeks ago I wrote about this weird couple that came into the bar; He was a brawny, trashy looking white guy with crazy tattoos, straight out of prison; She was a black hooker with long blond braided weaves. The White Trash Couple didn't stay at the bar very long, but long enough to make their presence felt. It was also one of the rare times where I actually felt afraid for my life (and I don't scare easy).So today I'm on Third Avenue, running errands. Walking towards Staples, I decided to stop at Chase Bank on East 41st Street to make a deposit. The line for the tellers was unusually long, so I decide to make my deposit at one of the available ATM's. So I go over to the little table and fill out my deposit slip and as soon as I turn around, I see HIM. I knew right away who it was. The same faded jeans and red and black plaid shirt. The bushy hair and the tattoos. It was Mr. White Trash Prison Guy. I froze for a second and watched him try to do something with the ATM machine. I wasn't sure what he was trying to do, but the way he was hunched over the ATM, it looked strange indeed. To make matters worse, all of the other ATM's were taken EXCEPT the one next to him.
What do I do? Do I wait for him to leave? Do I go on about my business and hope he doesn't shank me for my cash? Normally I wouldn't give a crap about who was around me but for some reason, my red flag went up with this guy. My gut feeling told me something wasn't right. So, what do I do?
After about five minutes of standing there, I went with my gut. Respect the shank, leave the bank.
So I did.
nuff said.
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