I could feel the pasticy metal smell burning the inside of my nose – I knew exactly what it was and as the sword came closer against my throat, the only thing I remember thinking as the event unfolded was “Bollocks”.
It started off pretty usually, the guy I was working with had been in the job for about 5 days. We were working on two, which wasn’t ideal, but I had one on a day off and the other on annual leave so for the third week in a row we were on two. I’d asked for more staff but its like getting blood from a stone and it wasn’t uncommon then to run on low staff. We had been behind with admin, and a steady stream of customers had kept us anchored to the shop floor – when it got quiet, only one regular in and she would be at least five minutes finishing on her phone before getting up to be served, so I made hay whilst the sun was shining and went out for a fag. It seemed like a good thing to do, it was my staff members first go at putting the jewellery and watches in the window, and although id shown him a few times, its always worth checking standards when you’re trying to sell luxury goods.
As I walked down the corridor past the retail window, tapping the fag on its box to compact the tobacco for a better smoke I was looking at the earrings, IIstepped out onto the pavement just as two moped’s with a couple of guys on each drove past me. My first thought, to my shame was “why are they driving on the pavement”, but before i could answer my own question they were up and running. The guy on the back was waggling what looked like a samurai sword at me telling me to stay the fuck where I am whilst the other started swinging at the window with what looked like some kind of axe. my “guard” was frantic, waving is sword at me and any passers by, then he got what looked like a squirty gym bottle and aimed it at me whilst using the sword in the other hand to instruct a passer by to stay where he is in his car and take the keys out. At the time I remember wondering what he thought he was doing with a bottle of water, but as he turned his focus back onto me, and the bottle came closer, half an inch from my nose, the vapours irritating my nose I knew that he was holding acid, probably sulphuric as it had the same smell as the stuff we use to test gold. By the time it processed this his sword was under my chin and he was barking instructions at me.
The odd thing is (ive come to learn after the event) is that the slow motion feel you get when put in this kind of situation is not because time slows, but more because your brain speeds up – it borrows energy from the future to double process what’s happening now – not literally but conceptually.
There had been a string of happy acid attacks on the street – people getting acid squirted in their face for fun, for revenge, for some or no reason at all. and slow motion reduced to freeze frame as my already noisy head exploded into a chord of noises as questions flew out of my mind
if he squirt that amount of acid in my face, will it burn or will it melt my face off?
if he melts my face off will my mum be able to identify my at the morgue?
If she has to identify me, will she cope?
If Im gone who will support her?
Who’s gonna look after the dogs?
What will happen to the boat?
If i die here, how will my colleague know what to do next?
Is this the part where people usually piss themselves?
This guy has aestetically beautiful eyes, but hard behind his balaclava
Is he arabic? turkish? south american – its quite hard to tell based on eyes and eyelashes alone?
if i go now will i be happy with what i achieved in life?
If i go now, i will i be remembered fondly or as a wanker?
I like those trainers
How long does acid take to burn off a face?
Will it look like the guy at the end of Indiana Jones?
Who’s gonna look after my other half?
Will they be able to find someone else?
the list of questions was intense, rapid fire, but in that moment, what’s hard to explain and verbose if i did, is that every question didn’t just get answered, it got explored, multiple views debated, each question was resolved by what seemed like a full minute or two debate in my head.
as the sword was redressed back to the guy in the car, I snapped back into reality. Opposite on the other side of the road I could see about 30 people, almost all of them pointing a phone at the robbery, filming me get taken.
The guy in the flat upstairs was screaming out of the window “call the police”, “im calling the police” as he did, i could hear police sirens cut though the silence on the street and the guys jumped back on their mopeds and drove off.
I stood there for a minute, unable to move really, still processing what was happening. all around me was broken glass. the police didn’t stop – they just carried straight on, seconds behind the mopeds so I guessed giving chase, drama I didn’t get to see. I went back inside. My colleague was on all fours on the floor hiding, terrified. As i walked in I hit every panic alarm in the store. My customer was sobbing. Whilst id been held inside, one of the four had been pulling a sword and keeping everyone calm inside so they couldn’t call for help. I brought the shutter down with the three of us inside. My colleague was trembling and wanted to go out and smoke, but was shitting himself, so I told him to go and spark up in the basement and if he gets in trouble to blame me. My customer was sat on the chair sobbing, she had wet herself and now the danger was over, was sat there ashamed and broken.
Nobody is going anywhere until the police arrive – the robbery was over, but we weren’t over the robbery. we sat together. I gave my customers towels and let her use the bathroom to clean up. the police took 40 mintutes to arrive. When we watched the cctv, the robbery lasted less than 90 seconds.