That’s when I decided to buy the gun.

It was just a .22 caliber pea-shooter I copped off that skeevy kid who bagged at the Shop N’ Go, but it was a real gun that shot real bullets, and that was good enough for me.

At first, I would stand in front of the mirror, doing my Travis Bickel-impersonation, going “You talkin’ to me? Are YOU talkin’ to ME?” over and over again. I did that for a few days, until the gun accidentally went off and I shot a hole clean-through the reflection of my face. Most people would call that a bad omen; me, I chalked it up as a learning experience.

After that, I stuffed it in my purse and started carrying it to work. It was like everything was different now. When my boss, that condescending cow, chewed me out for being late, I imagined putting a bullet between her eyes. It made work so much more tolerable.

But it wasn’t enough to just carry a gun around and pretend to use it. If I was going to change my life, I had to go all the way.

That’s when I decided to plan my first robbery.