Bank Robbery

I went to the bank today to make a deposit. Upon arriving, I held the door for a man in a wheelchair. After he entered, I pushed him to the teller window. Several people were in line so the man and I waited. When our turn came, I pushed him to the counter; he reached into his bag and pulled out a gun.
“This is a holdup!” he announced.
I froze in place, stunned. The man looked at me with a “Don’t worry, I’m robbing them. Not you,” expression.
“Hurry up!” he shouted. He passed his bag to the bank employee to fill.
Panic ensued. Patrons dropped to the floor fearing they would be shot. A few escaped out the front door. I remained standing behind the man.
“Could you back me up a little? I’m too close to the counter and can barely see the teller,” he said.
I backed him up.
“Thanks!” he said. “And you,” pointing the gun at the teller, “hurry up with the money!” “Please don’t shoot. I have a family.” She cried while stuffing money into his bag.
“Do what I ask and no one will get hurt.”
He waved me closer to whisper into my ear.
“I’m not going to hurt anyone. This gun has no bullets.”
Finally the teller handed him the bag.
“Would you mind holding the door for me again?” he asked.
As I rolled him to the exit, he continued waving the gun and threatening everyone.
“I just want to make sure no one tries acting the hero,” he whispered.
After I opened the exit door, I wheeled him out onto the sidewalk.
“Want to go for coffee?” he asked.
“Can’t. Have some things to do.” My voice quivered.
“Thought I’d ask.” He rolled himself down to a cab. It was his getaway car. The driver put his bag and wheel chair in the trunk and sat the man in the backseat.
I returned to the bank to finally make my deposit. Everyone looked at me.
“I just met the guy!” I said. “I didn’t know he was going to rob the bank.”

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