Okay, this is a 100% true story- I swear! I walked into my bank branch in Manhattan last week and one of the bank managers asked me if the police contacted me. Of course, a million things start running through my mind-
was I a victim of identity theft? Did someone screw up something in the condo account? It turns out that it was something much more serious, surreal, and somewhat hilarious.
My friendly bank manager informed me that I was in line behind a bank robber a few days before. The guy, who was wearing bike shorts, a tank top, and a bike helmet, told the teller that he had a stick of Dynamite in his pocket (not this isn't from a Woody Allen movie), and to give him all the money she had in the till.
All this happened before I walked up to the teller window to his left. I did not witness the beginning of the conversation, but I did hear him say "Hurry up-
I don't have all day." I just assumed that he was an a$$hole, as many bank customers in New York are. The teller didn't seem alarmed, so I didn't give it a second thought. I'm not sure what I would have done if I had known anyway.
The police never contacted me, but I'm not sure if I would have been much help. I don't remember what the guy looked like, except for the fact that he was very tall and dressed in bicycle related garb.
I assume that Bank of America won't be hiring me for their security division any time soon.