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"Put the money in the fucking bag!" The masked man spat more than he spoke, his pistol aimed at the terrified cashier.
"And don't try anything stupid!" Their compatriot spoke, all while eyeing the entrance of the gas station.
'Oh god, I'm so dead.' Amanda anxiously thought to herself, hoping she wouldn't get shot. The young woman's hands trembled as she slowly pushed on the register's touchpad, carefully yet quickly trying to open the device. After a few taps, the device chimed, then opened. Amanda deftly pushed the panic button as she pulled out the single dollar bills, then glanced at the robbers while she put the money in their plastic shopping bag.
"The fuck you lookin' at? Keep going!" The pistol-wielding robber ordered, and Amanda quietly complied. In a matter of moments, the register was free of dollar bills, and the robbers were moving out the front door. "Don't follow us, or I'll shoot you, bitch."
Not one to simply let her workplace get robbed, Amanda peered out the window to see where the two masked men went. She withdrew her phone as she watched them get into a Toyota Corolla without license plates, and dialed 9-1-1 as they sped off.
Amanda scoffed. "Fired?" She asked with a shocked tone. "Why?"
"I'm sorry, but we can't afford to be targeted again. And let's face it, you're an easy target." The manager shrugged while they bluntly elaborated.
"Excuse me?" The young woman raised a brow and crossed her arms.
The manager looked away for a second, then tilted his head, "A young woman at the register during nightshift? That's a surefire way to ask for a robbery."
"Wow, just wow." Amanda briefly flared her nostrils, then raised her index finger. "I just had a goddamn gun in my face, you prick. I don't need to hear this shit from you." She spoke with a furious tone, before bolting out of the gas station.
Amanda sniffled while she sat on the gravel at the top of the skyscraper, her mind replaying the robbery without pause. "Stupid fucking bastards had to come during my shift." She said with a resentful tone, then her lower jaw moved to the side as she pulled out her phone. The young woman looked around and moved her head about while speaking to herself, "Maybe if he let me have a gun on shift, this would've never have happened, but nooooo."
The woman then rose to her feet, and put her phone back in her pocket, "Fuck it." That was all she said, before she made up her mind. Her university degrees had made her overqualified for yet another entry level job, she lacked the necessary connections to get another gig, and her parents were far from keen with the idea of her moving back in with them. Deep down inside, the distressed woman knew her parents would rather take her in than bury her, but the stress and anguish had disrupted her logical side. Amanda took one small step towards the edge of the building, and swallowed down her fear of death.
"Hey!" A voice called out to her, and she turned to see a bright light aimed at her. "You're not supposed to be up here."
'Ugh, rent-a-cops.' Amanda turned away and rolled her eyes, then sighed as she momentarily pressed her lips together. "Sorry. I was just smoking a cigarette."
"Oh." The security guard turned off their flashlight as they approached Amanda, then adjusted their belt as they checked her out. "Where's your cigarette?"
"I-uh...threw it over the edge." Amanda quickly thought of a response, then rubbed her right earlobe while taking in a deep breath. "Um, goodnight, and thanks." She politely smiled at the officer, before she walked towards the door to the stairwell.
