My name is Gregory Schwartz. I am 47 years old, and I live alone. I have no family to speak of, unless you count my cat Susie. Girlfriend? The last time I had a girlfriend was in the Clinton administration, and even then it was more emotional than physical. I have very few friends, except for my poker buddies (we meet every other Tuesday at 6:30, alternating apartments for the sake of change), but we don’t really talk about anything personal, like regular friendships. I lived an alright childhood, I wasn’t beat by my father and my mother loved and cared for me. They died about ten years ago- car crash- but it didn’t affect me as much as it should have. I loved my parents, don’t get me wrong, but I understand that when a person has to die, a person has to die. Circle of life. You want to know why I did it, am I correct? Well, Mr. Wilson. It’s a long story, and it is probably going to put me away for a long time, but I bet you already planned on doing that. And I accept it. Circle of life.
Up until two months ago, I worked at Congo’s. You know, the local pizza place? Yeah, that’s the one. I wasn’t the pizza maker, or the pizza server. I wish. Heck, I would have settled for the dish washer. I was the guy out front waving around the sign advertising the pizza; the guy in the gorilla suit. Yeah, that was me. It was a pretty simple job, put on the ugly, scratchy gorilla suit, wave the sign, ignore the heckles and jeers from the customers, get paid every other Thursday. I made a pretty decent 9 bucks an hour, which may not sound like a lot, but it was enough to pay the bills, and to feed Susie. And that was really all I needed.
Until two months ago. I was having a pretty crummy day. It was raining. I hate days that rain, because the fake fur on the gorilla suit gets heavy and starts to stink, which means I had to dry clean the suit later on, and that gets expensive after a while. So it’s raining and cars are splashing water on me and people are laughing at me because I am a gorilla asking them, no, begging them to buy pizza, when my boss, Mr. Norton calls me in around noon. He is a little guy, around 5’6’’, but what he lacks up for in physical size, he makes up for in his anger and rage. I once saw him yell at a waitress for forgetting to put on her name tag. It was a scary sight, he was flinging food all over the place, the waitress was crying- she was only seventeen and it was a part time job for her- and he fired her on the spot, told her to get out and never come back. Sounds harsh, right? But that was the kind of man Mr. Norton was, and I respected him for that. Mainly because I didn’t want to be like that little waitress. But sometimes you have to do what you feel is right, even if others find your choice of logic questionable
Anyways, Mr. Norton called me into his dirty office because he said he had some news for me. “What kind of news?” I asked, hoping for a promotion to busser or dish washer, anything but my current job.
“We can’t afford to keep you around anymore, this business is fine without you around, and besides, we found a younger and sprier young fella who will work for us for cheaper.” He didn’t look at me the entire time he said that, shuffling papers on his desk. It was like I didn’t even exist, like he was talking to himself. I was shocked. I remember I couldn’t figure out how to speak after that. Me, fired? I worked there for 8 years, I was on time every single day, I even worked holidays, and this is how they repay me? Buy giving my job to a little street punk?
“We will send you your last paycheck, and please return the suit after you dry clean it, for Perry. The new gorilla. Now get out of my office.” He still wasn’t looking at me.
So I left his office, and that was that.
I was walking home, and I lost it. I had no idea what I was going to do. Never went to college, I have no real skills to speak of, and lets face it. Nobody wants to hire an uneducated old man like me. All I had to my name is a cat and this ugly gorilla suit, and I had to return the gorilla suit the next day. Things were not looking good for me, at all. I tried to apply to jobs, God knows that I did, but I was right. Employers want the best bang for their bucks, and what could I do? Wave a sign around? If little street punks like Perry were getting hired to do that, then I wasn’t going to be able to find a job, ever. The younger they are, the harder working they are. I am old and worn down. I get tired easily. I would be a liability to the company if I fell over and hurt myself. Let’s face it. I couldn’t get a job because I was too proud. I didn’t want to flip burgers at McDonalds, nor did I want to work as a janitor. I just wanted my old job back, and that was never going to happen.
I went on a lot of walks during my period of unemployment, trying to figure out just what I was supposed to do next. I always liked to go on walks before then, but I never had a chance because I was working all the time. But now that I had nothing to do with my life, I could take all the walks I wanted. Two weeks was all it took for me to all but completely run out of what little money I had left. I bought what little food I could, split it with Susie, but she was getting tinier and tinier. Poor, poor Susie. She was crying all day now, and it killed me. It hurts when you can’t provide for your family, it hurts! I wanted to feed her, but I couldn’t even feed myself. You know when that happens that you have hit rock bottom. I was watching TV one day, trying to ignore the empty hole in my abdomen that was once my stomach, when King Kong came on. Heard of it? Big ol’ ape falls in love with a beautiful broad, and ends up dying by falling off of a building. I watched the part when King Kong takes Fay Raye from her apartment, she is screaming, and I thought to myself, “This ape can get away with anything, pretty much. Can’t he? I bet he could rob a bank if he needed to, and everybody would be too terrified to stop the old lug”, and then my eyes fell on the gorilla suit in the corner. I haven’t turned it in just yet, mainly because I was too ashamed to go back to my former place of employment and return it. I looked back at the movie, and back at the suit. And it all clicked. I knew what I was going to do to get out of this mess. It was the only way out.
By now, I should mention that I have never, ever stolen anything in my entire life, It just isn’t in my chemical make up to do something like this, but I was desperate at this point. I was at rock bottom. The only way to go is up. Which is why King King clinbed up that building in the first place. I had to plan this out so that I wouldn’t get caught right away. So I decide to start small and rob a convenience store, dead of night, and work my way up. People rob convenience stores all the time, the clerks were used to it by now, just another day on the job. I’d wave a weapon around, wear the suit, and they would give me all their money. Piece of cake.
So I’m walking to my house, and I pass a bank. And I see my reflection in the mirror. My white sunken face poking out from the body of a hairy beast, gorilla mask tucked under my arm. I look into the bank, with the tellers doing their job, people making deposits and taking out their money… and I get an idea. I think to myself, “I’m going to rob this bank, and I get scared by that thought. Me? Rob a bank? I’ve never even stolen anything in my life before! How does a simple man like me, go and decide to rob a bank? I run home, freaked out by what I am thinking, and go to my room. Susie comes up to me and rubs against my leg, and I pet her. She starts purring, and I realize that if I don’t think of a better plan, I won’t have any money to go and feed her, and she is the closest thing to family I have at this point. I have no choice. I have to rob this bank. I have to.
I wait until the next night. It’s two o’clock in the morning, and the streets are totally deserted. I have to plan this out to make sure I won’t get caught. I wear my regular clothes- sports jacket and a bowtie- and keep the gorilla suit in a duffle bag. I walk around the city fGod knows how long, so that I can gather up enough courage to rob this bank, and to make sure that nobody knows what I am about to do. I went to the local toy store earlier that day, and I bought a little toy gun. I didn’t want to get a real gun, because I don’t want to be tempted into using it, but mainly because I can’t really afford to be buying guns at this point. Not yet, anyways. So I go and buy a little fake gun, the kind of toy gun little boys use to play Cowboys and Indians. It’s a little pistol, and I’d be a liar if I said it didn’t look like the real thing. I buy the gun for 5, 6 bucks, maybe? And I am out of there. I turn into a dark alley way, making sure that nobody saw me, which was easy because it was four o’clock or so at this point and change. I am getting scared at this point, but I think of Susie and how she needs to eat, and I get the courage to go on. So I put the suit on, and walk out of the alleyway.
There is a convenience store a few blocks away from my little hiding spot, and I pass a bum or two, but those bums are all asleep in the gutter. I can’t let this happen to me, I think to myself. I need to do this. No other option. The store it a block away at this point, and I pause for a minute or two, gathering up my courage, and start to run. I make it to the store, throw open the door, and start waving my gun around. The lady behind the counter starts to scream. I point my gun at her, and scream “Gimme all your money or I’ll blow your goddam head off!” She is afraid, she is crying, I am shocked at myself for releasing this animal that I never even knew existed into the wild. She is shaking as she reaches into the register, and I feel bad for her. I didn’t mean to scare her. She hands me 20 dollars in change, and she is crying. “Please,” she begs. “Please, this is all that is in the register.” The tears are streaming down her face, and even through the gorilla mask I can see she is scared out of her mind. “This’ll do, lady.” I say, and before I run out of the store, I grab a bag of chips. I know she has probably called the police at this point, so I run to my alley way as fast as I can so I can change an go home. I make it to my alley way, and by then the adrenaline is wearing off. I start to laugh. I hear sirens, but I’m laughing my head off. If I can make it out of this without getting caught, I can do anything. I am the king of the world! I have 20 dollars and a bag of chips, but I feel like I am the richest man in the world. Before I go home for the night and sleep, I go to the store, a different store than the one I just robbed, and buy a can of food for Susie. The good kind, not the cheap store brand. She deserves it.
The next morning I turn on the TV and my face is all over the news. Well, not my face, but the gorilla face. Gorilla Bandit, the woman on the 7 o’clock news says. My name is the Gorilla Bandit. I wonder if my ex-boss is going to recognize that suit. I wait for the phone call or a knock on the door from the police, bringing me in, but nothing happens. I wait it out a week, stretching that 20 dollars and that bag of chips for as long as I possibly can, before I decide to rob again.
Since I know what to expect, the resulting robberies, 4 or 5, can’t remember exactly, get easier and easier. I am getting more and more money by this point, I am smarter. I learn to take any customers money that may be unfortunate to be in the store at the time, but I am still only getting 50 bucks per place by this point, nothing much. I still try to save it as much as I can, but I have bills to pay! I need more money. It’s time for me to start robbing banks.
I plan this out carefully. I don’t want to get caught. If I can rob this bank and get enough money, I can live comfortably for a few months at least before I have to rob again. I want everybody to forget about me for a while. I have to make it count. I have to. The day before I go and stake out the bank, looking at the exit points and the guards. The bank is a small bank, between a McDonalds and a record store. There are six tills, but only three are open. There are a few decorations, a picture of the former owner, a vase or two, typical bank décor. A woman at the till smiles at me, asking if I need any help. I am startled momentarily; I figured that nobody could see me. “No thanks,” I say, and walk out of the bank. I have to gather enough courage to do this. I feel like it’s my first time, robbing a convenience store. I have to make this count. I can’t get caught. Susie is depending on me. I have no other option at this point. No way out.
The bank closes at 6 o’clock sharp, so I head over at 5:45. I have my gorilla suit, I have my toy gun, and I have my duffle bag. All I need now is the money. I kick the door down, scream obscenities, just like I have done so many times before. There are 5 people in the bank right now, and they all drop to the floor, cowering in fear. I make my way to the till. It’s the same woman as yesterday. I am taken aback, but I can’t turn back now. I point my gun at her, tell her to fill the bag or she dies, yadda yadda yadda. As she is filling the bag, I don’t notice the man slowly walking up behind me with the vase in his hand. I don’t notice him until he smashes the vase over my head and left shoulder. I am stunned. I stumble, reach up to catch myself, and the alarm goes off. It dawns on me that I failed and that now I am going to go to prison, but I ignore that thought. I run to the door, its locked. I take a trashcan and smash it through the window and make my way out, running as fast as I can, which isn’t very fast, but I still do what I can. I am pulling glass out of my shoulder as I run, and I can already tell I’m going to need stitches. Sirens are roaring behind me, people are staring, and I imagine how ridiculous I must look right now. Police cars are now in my sight of vision, in front of me, and behind me. I am dead meat. I know I am going to get caught, but I still am wildly hoping I can make it out of this mess alive. I run to the nearest building, run to the stair well, and start climbing. I take off my mask; start to take off the suit, and climb, climb, climb. I’m exhausted and tired, but I still hope that maybe, just maybe, nobody will find me. Up I go to the roof, where I am met by a crowd of police men who took the elevator. Their guns are drawn and pointing directly at my head, and I knew then and there that I lost. There weren’t any exits for me to escape to, unless I jumped off the roof, and I wasn’t ready for that just yet. So I raised my hands and knelt down as the police swarmed me, made sure I was in total custody and wouldn’t hurt anybody, before calling an ambulance for my injuries.
And here I sit, in this little room, telling you my tale that will probably put me away for a long, long time. I know I probably should have waited for a lawyer before I told you anything, but I am tired of running. I am tired of robbing stores and hurting people I know you guys would have gotten the truth out of me anyways, so what use is there in denying what I did? I am very sorry for the people I have scared, and I know I am going to be in prison for God only know how long. Can you do me a favor, though? I know a guy like me shouldn’t be asking an officer like you for any favors, but a man’s gotta try, right? Susie, my cat… She is a good little cat. can you make sure she gets a good, loving home? And scratch her behind the ears for me? She always liked that. Make sure she is going to be OK. Please? Promise me that, and I am all yours.
(Draft 1, copyright 2011)
