I was the opening manager for a restaurant in downtown Washington D.C. many years ago. The restaurant was one of a chain that was very popular in the Washington area at the time. We opened at 7:00 AM for breakfast, which meant I had to get there at about 5:15 AM to open the store so we could prepare for the breakfast rush.
When I arrived at the store on this chilly March morning, several employees were already waiting to be let in. As was my custom I would lock the door behind me, being sure to lock both the middle and bottom locks on the big plate glass door. I would sit in the dining room for about 15 minutes while waiting for the remaining employees to arrive.
On this day as the last two workers came up to the door, I unlocked the middle lock and stooped down and unlocked the bottom lock. All of a sudden the door was pushed open, the two employees were literally thrown into the room and I was knocked off balance while still stooped over the bottom lock. Three young men with stocking caps on, brandishing a gun, ordered me to lock the door. I did so, and they directed us to the back of the store, down to the basement where the office was located. They rounded up the other employees already in the store and herded us all into the small office. The tallest intruder yelled at me to “open the damn safe.” The safe was located next to the wooden desk, and beside a metal file cabinet. On the side of the desk was a “panic” switch which would summon police. The thieves knew it was there, and told me not to push it, just “open the damn safe.” Well, with a gun pointed at my head, I could not remember the combination, and my hands were shaking so bad I could barely turn the dial.
After what seemed like an hour, but was only a few minutes, the door bell to the store began to ring as other employees showed up for work. The thieves were getting nervous, and the gun was looking bigger and bigger to me. I finally got the safe open, but there was less than $150 opening cash in it; the previous day’s money had been deposited the night before. What the crooks didn’t know was there was a silent panic button inside the safe, which I somehow remembered to flick. They quickly scooped up the money, and put us all in the walk-in ice box and locked it from the outside. They made their escape through the basement rear door. Within minutes, which again seemed a lot longer, Washington’s Finest opened the walk-in and let us all out. The thieves had been caught at the end of the alley behind the restaurant.
We were all shaky and cold, but not as cold as the half dozen or more employees at the front door who were waiting in the cold and had no idea what was going on.
- Jack
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