This story is from, I do work here, lady, titled, I am the bank president.

This was back in the 70s when I was in the military.

I was stationed outside Little Rock, Arkansas, and I was in need of extra cash,

so I got a job at a security company working overnight.

There were three of us who worked security at a prominent downtown bank.

One for day shift, one for swing shift, and one overnight.

I was a swing shift guard.

On the job we had time clocks, we had to punch in on, on different areas,

we were patrolling.

There was one revolver for the three of us, and I found out it wasn't in working order.

Not only dirty, and a plugged a barrel, but the cylinder wouldn't rotate, but didn't matter,

because the ammo inside had turned green, making it unusable.

So, was my third night, I had just taken over from the older daylight guard, and I started

making my rounds with my privately owned weapon, and the cleaning duty weapon between patrols.

When I finished cleaning, and putting in new ammo, I carried it along with mine.

The daylight guard didn't pass any information on, and didn't write anything in the log,

so I figured nothing out of the ordinary.

One of the time clocks was in the main lobby behind the cashier's cage.

When I entered the lobby, I noticed the vault was open, a light was on,

and some muffled speaking from inside.

So, I called for the police, and proceeded to the vault with both guns in hand.

Me, hands up, and they better be empty.

...