Much to purples dismay I was 11 the first time I robbed a bank

Jarett Dunn
3 min readJul 11

Nah, kidding, it’s not a trap song.

Listen — I met a girl tonight and she was lovely yet obviously traumatized.

Notice I used ‘yet’ instead of ‘but.’

She’s lovely — yet as I was being introduced to here an Alpha Male was feeling offended about losing his only opportunity at any meat in the room. He goes on and on about nonsense and she turns to me, ‘and you? what do you do for a living?’

‘It depends on the day.’

He began on a tirade about ‘which bank did I rob Monday? Oh it was Royal Bank of Canada. Tuesday? Oh it was TD.’

Not far from the truth, ol’ buck. But my first bank heist was at the ripe old age of 11, before (as yet) you had the capacity to form an opinion, yet alone coherent thought.

All the gold, all the guns? Couldn’t get you off — Metric.

Well, my good dear friend {redacted_j} and I had a wonderful thought we put together one dark night out in the cabin well behind my house — you see, we’d grown bored of games on the Super Nintendo and also somehow bored of a relentless series of matches of chess vis a vis the other misfit.

We began demising ways to feed our habits — although, it would turn out, not nearly as bad as the habits we may have grown accustomed to later in life.

You see — the money, the power, the gold — we’ve come to devour the vault — as acquired tastes, they become much more advantageous to yield as you wane on with the years approaching the grave.

Nevertheless, we approached the problem with alchemist hats on: given our resources, and with he least amount of effort and least amount of potential negative results, how could we maximize yield?

We went through the usual suspects — but eventually fell our eyes upon the bin in front of us. The bins, though, were basically behind comprehension for our wee minds — wax to be laid upon a woman’s body, some sex tapes (albeit not the midget and ‘freaks’ tape my sister had cut up,’ and lo and behold as if we were manifesting such a wielding from God himself: those little dime rollie-uppies you would stick 50 dimes in and bequeath yourself a nice little blue note ($5 for those of you uncultured).

Well, now, we were in business! Stick 48 pennies in the middle and a dime on each and and -you have created infinite profit-.