Ten Minutes to Midnite
It was the end of spring training at the Pirates stadium located in downtown Bradenton, Florida. We were extremely busy. We had two regular drivers on, and two young counter girls taking orders. Pizzas were flying out of the oven as fast as we can get them out. On occasion, we would see a rat of large proportion poke his head out of a corner to grab a morcel. The building was in terrible shape. Corporate had purchased another building on the other side of the hood and was in the process of remodeling it. We wouldn't even be in it for another six months.
The ball game started at seven thirty and ran until close to eleven thirty, which was tyical of training games. I had worked a pretty long shift that day, and was ready to go home. My manager, a heavy young guy of twenty was closing out the books for the day in the office as I was finishing up the pots and pans. I hated the closing shift. Sweat was running down my back and into the pant leg. I was tired! Fifty plus years of age, working like a dog, for a measly few bucks. It was a job. Paid the bills. That's all it did. I was recently divorced, alone, trying to pay off debt.
The last two drivers were out on deliveries. We had a few stragglers come to the door, but the neon sign was already off. By eleven thirty, Lucy, left to go home since it was late and we had slowed down some. Marta, a young woman in her thirties, was working the orders. There was a real sense of quietness in the air. Almost as if the unexpected was about to happen and it did! Suddenly the back door flew open and there appeared a man about six feet tall, wearing all black, face covered in a scream mask holding what seemed to be a gun in his pocket of his hoodie.
As I looked up from my dish sink, the clock read, ten minutes til midnite. My supervisor, not yet aware of the man's presence, "We have a jproblem, Mike". In came the man, pulled out a thirty eight revolver and stuck it to my face, cocked and ready to fire. I could see the bullets in the chamber, which scared the living hell out of me!
Mike couldn't react fast enought to his demands in getting the money into the brown bag that was thrust onto the counter. He pushed me aside, shoving me into the outside wall of the office as he entered the office. Filling the brown paper bag, money had dropped on the floor, he scooped that up too. I tried to run but the man, caught me with his free hand and led me back into the sink area still waving the gun at me. "Don"t move, or i'll kill you both"! I stood frozen unable to move, yell, or call the police.
Mike, was turning white at the point, on the verge of passing out! I yelled at Mike to "Just give him the money, and hurry."! This all happened within a fifteen minute time frame. The front of the store was totally unaware of what had just happened, even as the man ran through the store clutching the money as he exited out the front door. Marta, was filling the last few orders for the drivers, not aware of anything that just happened.
By then Mike had called the police. They were there in heart beat. it was a long nite. We were all interrogated by the police. Each of us having a different interpretation of the incident. After that night, we were carefully watched by under cover police hiping to catch the thief. In the weeks ahead, the same individual, had robbed many other Domino franchises, in the area and even out as far as Orlando.
About two weeks after our store had been hit, they criminals were apprehended and incarcerated for lengthy prison terms. I attended the sentencing hearings a year later where I was able to face them one on one.
Shortly after this account, I was let go from the company for filing a workers compensation claim for emotional damages. In ths state of Florida, emotional damages are not readily given out to private enterprises. I tried on my own to get help for PTSD, it was too expensive. I finally found help through the VA system which was a long and ardious task of shifting through years of trauma triggered by ten minutes to midnite.
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