"Minding 'Your' Business"

Officer, we saw everythaang!

(Oh, how the tables have 'Nat turned').

"Damn! They robbing banks?!", says the woman in the bright red bonnet, smacking her gum and standing way too close to me.

"Shidd, I hope he got enough for everybody, you know what I'm saying?".

I looked at her with complete disgust as she continued to smack her gum and shift herself closer to me than she was before, now rubbing her right breast against my arm.

"Right", I said with a disgusted tone. "Maybe you should go meet up with him at the drop-off location".

The woman paused her chewing and gave me the most intense side eye before finally walking away. I assumed she could sense my sarcasm.

I turned back to face my grandmother who was still talking to the officer and giving him her statement.

"That's right, grandma!", I said to myself as I looked at her with imitable admiration. "Snitch! Snitch!! Tell him everythaang!"

---

Now I know by now you are all probably asking yourselves, "Bank robbing?!, Red bonnets?!, Snitching?! What the hell is going on here?!".

Well, I'll tell you what's happening. My grandmother and I witnessed a crime! A crime of THIEVERY! *inserts dramatic music*

Allow me to share the details of this heinous act.

But before I get into the gritty details of this, all too real "Law and Order" episode, I would like to point out the fact that today marks the seventy-sixth year of my grandmother's return around the sun. And for all of you who aren't crystal gems wearing, astral projection studying, "Grand Rising" speaking individuals, in layman's terms, today is my grandmother's seventy-sixth birthday, and in her honor, and with her permission, of course, I decided to share this story of how the two of us became sucked into a heist we had no idea was taking place.

So, back to this story, shall we?

It was a day like any other day when your grandmother calls you up to run errands, and if you're grandma is anything like mines, those errands usually consist of shopping aisle by aisle at the grocery store and standing idly by while she carefully selects her scratch tickets.

But there was a slight turn of events when another location was added into our "quality time".

This time, it wasn't our usual routine which goes a little something like this:

1. food

2. grocery store

3. another grocery store

4. a regular store

5. the dollar store

then end the day with: 6. more food.

No, no, no, see this time, grandma threw in a curve ball and needed to run to the bank right between errands two and three.

(Errand 2 1/2. The bank!)

Now it was supposed to be a simple deposit of a check she won during bingo night with the ladies, but as usual, nothing to where I'm involved will ever go as according to plan.

Step One: The mission

It was a pretty gloomy day, seeing as though it had been raining for most of the morning, but it didn't stop my grandmother from wanting to get out of the house and taking me with her.

As we pulled into the parking lot of her bank, I suggested that I drive around to the ATM machine so she could deposit her check there instead of waiting in one of those long lines to speak with a teller, and after three minutes of listening to my grandmother tell me how it was raining outside, (even though there was an entire extension made out of brick covering the drive thru), and how she didn't want other cars in her business, to limit my frustration, I found a parking spot and the two of us headed inside.

Two tellers were already preoccupied with their individual customers and one teller was assisting a woman in the drive-thru, (the same drive thru we could've been in), and surprisingly the bank wasn't that crowded, but there were already two people ahead of us.

The teller to our right wrapped up her customer and called for the older black woman who was just finishing up her slip, while the teller to our left called on the young white boy wearing a purple "Rick and Morty" hoodie and carrying an Adidas backpack.

As we waited for the next available teller, my grandmother proceeded to ask me questions about my love life that always seem to make me cringe.

"Simone!", she started. "You seeing anybody?"

"No, grandma, I'm not", I replied after letting out a deep sigh.

"What about that one friend you talk about all the time?", she continued.

"And he's exactly that, grandma. A friend!".

Bothered by my lack of enthusiasm for her prying questions, my grandmother sucked her teeth and we both focused our attention back on the white boy who was now holding up the line, because not only was this white boy taking the attention of his teller, but also gaining the attention from the other tellers as well.

The older black woman seemingly finished up her transaction with teller number one and hurriedly ran for the door while I nudged my grandmother to move up since she was next. Teller number one quickly brought us to a halt by using her right hand as a stop sign and left us and the older black man standing beside me slightly confused.

So once again, we were now waiting in line for an additional ten minutes, but that didn't seem to stop my grandmother from continuing to ask the important questions.

"Simone, why won't you date the boy? "..."Do you just not like him? "..."What's wrong with em, baby?"

"Really grandma?", I said with slight embarrassment. "We're still on this?!"

"Aw, shit, Simone! I'm just asking". "Just trying to make conversation".

Step Two: The crime

I started to become noticeably annoyed by, not only these continued invasive questions about my nonexistent love life, but also by the fact that this white boy in this super cool purple hoodie was still holding everybody up, and when I say everybody, I mean just me and my grandmother, (the older black man who was once standing beside me left in his car five minutes ago).

I could see that teller number one's eyes continued to shift from me back to the white boy and back to me, while teller number two tried to keep count of what seemed to be a withdrawal of the white boy's funds. Obliviously wondering why teller number one kept staring at me, (I mean, what girl?! Are you calling us up next or not?), the only thing really crossing my mind at the time was, "damn, where do you think he got that hoodie from? Pacsun? Nah, that was probably an online order".

As time passed, I could see that my grandma was just as tired of waiting as I was, so I decided to revisit a past plan.

"So, grandma, how you feeling about that drive thru?", I asked in a tone that said, 'I told you so'.

"What is this white boy doing?!", my grandma replied with frustration. "Come on then, shit! You know I hate people in my business".

(Now how someone could possibly be in your business from the comfort of the car and multiple feet away is still beyond me, but I digress).

Step Three: The bust (well, sort of)

It was raining harder now, pouring even, and after my grandmother and I sprinted to the car, I circled around the building pulling up towards the drive thru and luckily, there were no cars in sight.

My grandmother's transaction took no longer than twenty seconds and we, in my opinion, were back on track headed for errand number three.

As I began to pull off, I came to a hard stop after seeing the white boy in the purple hoodie dash in front of my car. He jumped back onto to the curb and calmly waved his hand motioning me to go on ahead, (Such a polite robber).

Noticing his kindness and being way too impressed with his hoodie, I decided to return the favor and wave my hand motioning him to cross instead, and after playing a quick game of "you go"..."no, you go"..."aww thanks, but you go", the white boy smiled and gestured a thank you before rushing to his black Chevrolet Camaro and tossing his Adidas backpack in the backseat. He quickly backed up in front of me and sped off down the street as I slowly eased out from behind the brick wall of the drive thru, careful not to hit someone else who decides to dash in front of my car.

Moments away from the exit, a squad of police cars entered the parking lot of the bank and essentially blocked me from leaving.

"Simone! What did you do?!", asked my grandmother as she jumped out of her seatbelt.

"Me?!", I said in shock. "Maybe it was your check!! I never known someone to win money at bingo!"

"I doubt they're bringing an entire unit over my bingo check!"

"Uhmm hmmm", I replied as I rolled my eyes harder than a tidal wave.

A total of six officers exited their vehicles as two of them slowly approached the side of my car.

Without looking at her, I could tell my grandmother was wrestling with her purse from all the unnecessary noise she was making.

(Was she seriously hiding her check?)

An older black officer followed by his middle-aged white partner finally made it to the driver's side of the car, (the side I so nervously sat in).

"How you doing ladies?", asked the older police officer whose badge said 'Henderson'. "Is it okay if we ask you two a few questions? The teller over here said the two of you were inside the bank".

I looked to see where exactly Officer Henderson was pointing and lo and behold his finger landed directly on teller number one, (snitchin' ass!)

Now on a personal note, I've honestly never had an encounter with an officer before, not even so much as being pulled over for a ticket. And even though this seemed to be a simple yes or no question, I still had absolutely no idea how to engage. I was completely overwhelmed by the two tasks that plagued my mind in this moment,

Task number 1: Answering this officer's question

and

Task number 2: Wondering if I should pause the Big K.r.i.t. song that was jumping and bumping my speakers.

(Nah, I'll turn it down if anything. You don't pause Big K.R.I.T.)

Thankfully my grandmother intervened, and this was the first time that I was grateful for her speaking for the both of us.

As we stepped outside the car, Officer Henderson finally shared with us that the white boy in the purple Pacsun, not Pacsun, maybe Pacsun hoodie just robbed the bank.

“Well when the hell did he do that?!”, shouted my grandmother.

“While the two of you were in the bank, according to the teller over here”, said the middle-aged officer whose name badge I couldn’t quite make out.

“I knew that damn boy was weird”, said my grandmother who was still holding her purse way too tight.

My jaw dropped.

Was this officer seriously telling me that we were in the midst of a bank robbery and the only thing my grandma and I did during this criminal heist was talk about a love life I didn’t have?! Did we really just miss our only opportunity for...something thrilling!

I couldn’t believe it. We were the only witnesses in the history of witnesses who, in fact, didn’t witness a damn thing!!

The middle-aged officer pulled my grandmother aside after she agreed to give him her statement, while I’ll continued to speak with Officer Henderson and dodge looks from teller number one at the same time. (My bad girl, I didn’t know you were being robbed).

Officer Henderson continued to ask me questions about what I saw and possibly heard from the assailant, (y’all heard that, THE ASSAILANT! It’s like being in an episode of Criminal Minds!), and as rubbed my hands together like Birdman, I couldn’t wait to share what I knew.

After providing my statement, Officer Henderson once again checked on my well-being before letting me return back to my car.

I thanked him, but not before asking him for one more final request.

“Can you do me a favor?”, I asked shyly.

“Sure”, he replied

“When you find him, do you think you can ask where he got that hoodie from?”

It was pretty clear that Officer Henderson had no time for any more of my questions because he turned back to face teller number one and joined the rest of his crew while leaving me in the pouring rain on a cliffhanger.

As I waited for my grandmother to wrap up her conversation with Officer Henderson’s partner, a woman wearing a bright red bonnet walked up to my side and…. y’all know this part.

As my grandmother and I got back in the car, two officers cleared a path for us to finally leave the parking lot. Curious to know what my grandmother said in her statement, (because y’all, I told it allll), I finally asked,

“Grandma, what did you tell them?”

“Nothing”, she replied “I told them I didn’t see a damn thing”.

Well ain't that some shit.

©2022, Arien Simone