but security stopped me. I told them there was a girl with a backpack, 5’ 5”, purple hair and that she had a bomb but they didn’t believe me. Told me to wait in line. I pushed my way through to the other side and they grabbed me before I got there.
“Get a manager!” I said. “That tall guy I saw earlier. Or a cop, something!”
And they dragged out an assistant manager but he said they expected bomb threats on big sale days. I tried to tell them that this was different but they wouldn’t listen. They just thought I was a meth-head or something and the silver tape on my hands didn’t help.
I turned around and went back into the crowd and started telling the people in line. There’s a bomb in there, I said, a big one, and I saw the girl take it in and she’ll do it, I know her—but the right then the manager got on a bullhorn and announced that the store was filling up and they were going to have to start turning people away and, hearing that, people just blew past me with their eyes on the door and there was nothing I could say to stop them. Up front, the security guards were breaking out the liability waivers and people were signing them as fast as they could. Can one count for my whole family? Sure.
And I got in line too and forced my way closer to the front. A guy behind me started shouting, calling me names, but I kept moving until I was about ten feet from the doors. A guard handed me a white sheet of paper saying it wasn’t their problem if the store blew up and I put an “X” on it and threw it back at them and was about to go through the glass doors when the tall manager came out. He said the store was full and that no one could go in until other shoppers left.
I told him he had to let me in, that my friend was inside and I didn’t want to get separated. I said she had my asthma medication and I was having trouble breathing but he didn’t believe me because I was shouting and people said they’d seen me running and that I was cutting in line. So I said please, please, I’m not lying, but a security guard came over and told him I was making bomb threats earlier and the tall manager put his hand on my shoulder. It smelled like baby powder and he told me to calm down or they were going to have to ask me to leave. Then I said the real reason was that the girl in the store was my sister and that she was a junkie and had just gotten out of jail for theft and that I didn’t want to see her go back and that I saw her go in with a backpack and that I knew it was empty and that I was sure she was going to steal a whole bunch of stuff because she was good at it and they almost let me in but then they said no. And I said please, please, please let me in, and the tall manager put his hand on my shoulder again and someone behind me said I was probably trying to get to get at the kids’ clothes before they ran out and I said I didn’t have any kids and I told the manager I would leave them my bag and my ID if they’d just let me find her and that I would be quiet as a mouse because I was screaming then, and that I would buy diamonds and detergent and that it would only take a minute if they let me and they told me to step back. The guard’s hand was on my chest and he said to calm down and I said I would and walked away apologizing, with my eyes darting through the crowd. I tried to make myself breathe evenly even though I was terrified and no one would do anything.
A white bus pulled up with New Life Community Church stenciled on the side. Kids poured out. They were just handing out those waivers left and right, passing them up and down the line. Little white papers, little doves, fluttering over the crowd of children, and everyone laughing and excited like it was their birthday or something.