Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: Control (01/30/06)
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TITLE: The Bored Shopper | Previous Challenge Entry
By Daniel Hall
02/02/06 -
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"Give me the money," the robber, wagging his weapon, would say to the cashier.
The cashier would cry while gathering the money.
"You," the knave would demand of me, "Give me your wallet."
"My wallet?" I would ask after looking up from reading the ingredients of chewing gum and sizing up the villain.
"Now!" he would shout.
"I can't give you my wallet. However, I am certain that, if this store sells wallets, this fine lady will point you in the proper direction," I would politely say and then return to the chewing gum ingredients.
"You can't give me your wallet?" he would ask sarcastically while placing his weapon in my personal space.
"Sir," -Here, I would be extremely calm looking directly into his eyes- "I'm sorry, but I cannot give you my wallet." Now, one of my eyebrows would rise while the other would sink, and I would stare defiantly at the criminal.
He would be so confused by my refusal and expression, that his weapon would fall to the floor. I would pick it up and return it, so as to keep the situation fair. The cashier would slightly squeal. Confusion would wrinkle the thief's face, so I would explain.
"You see, sir, inside my wallet is the first love letter my wife sent me. I dare not part with it."
The robber, shocked a while longer, would then erupt in rage while again brandishing his weapon in my personal space and saying, "I'm gonna use this on you in two seconds unless you give me your wallet."
"I don't want to hurt you," I would ensure him, "so put that back in your pocket. In fact, I'll tell you what; you put that weapon away and let this lady keep the money in her register, and I'll split a piece of gum with you. How about that?"
Again, he would freeze at my audacity. Again, I would return his fallen weapon. Again, a squeal from the cashier's direction.
"Are you crazy?" would be his loud, high pitched response.
"No, I believe not, but I will admit that grocery shopping could easily drive me to be so. Now, will you put away the weapon, or must I control you forcefully?"
"Forcefully?," still high and loud would be his voice, "Why, I'm gonna-"
Quickly, I would fool him with a leg movement while knocking away the weapon with my hand. The cashier would squeal again. The scoundrel would then swing with his fist. I would step aside, grab his arm as it passed me, pull it, and soon have him in a painful position on the ground awaiting the arrival of security. The cashier would shower me with joy and gratitude from above. Security would arrive and secure the distraught criminal. From the depths of my kindness, I would stick a half piece of gum in his pocket. Security would usher him away.
The unthankful criminal, full of anger and vengeance, would struggle free, rush back toward me, and-
"Hey, what are you doing?" my wife demanded from the head of the aisle in which I was strolling and imagining, "Get over here, now!"
"So sorry, dear," I timidly said and obeyed so quickly that I overturned a canned bean display along the way.
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