Besides the 'getting my ass kicked' blog, my other real brush with danger is getting held at gunpoint during a botched robbery.

I was a manager at a financial services company in Texas.  We did check and data processesing for small banks and credit unions.  A couple of my employees had part time jobs as projectionists at movie theaters.  I'd often help them splice together reels of film onto the projector platters and watch films before they came out.  I'd also get into movies for free whenever they were working. 

When Dances with Wolves came out, one of the supervisors, Greg, and I decided to go see it for free.  When the film was over, we went up to the projectionist booth to visit with my friend/employee, Paul.  We were hanging out, talking about the film when we heard somebody running around.  The projectors are on kind of second floor, almost like a catwalk, so when people were running around up there you could feel the vibrations on the floor.  The three of us ignored it.

Suddenly, this guy bursts into the projectionist booth wearing a ski mask and holding a gun.  He points it and says, "Everybody get down on the ground!"  The three of us don't move.  We just look at him.  He repeats, "everybody get down on the ground!"  We still just stare at him, unperturbed.  I was sitting closest to him so he sticks the gun right in my face and says, "look man, I'm serious."

I can see that it's a Smith and Wesson .32 revolver.  An uncommon pistol.  It is off safe as indicated by the little button on the trigger guard being red.  I'm looking into the cylinder of the pistol and see the bullets inside.  I see the hammer is back. 

Now this guy is breaking a major rule of using a gun.  He's within an arm's reach of me.  I could likely slap the gun to the side before he knows what's happening.  I can even make the slap part of the movement of getting down on the ground as per his instructions.  I know for a fact that my two friends will be all over him like stink on shit.  Neither Greg nor Paul are people to trifle with.  So did I do it?  Not a fucking chance.  I figure that the best plan is to let him take whatever he wants and fuck off.  If it were a rape or kidnapping, I'd have gone for it.  Robbery?  Let him take the fucking furniture for all I care.

I get right the fuck down on the ground.  Paul and Greg follow suit.

The robber says, "Were's the money?"

Once again we all just sit there, except now face down on the floor.  Paul doesn't answer, so I figure I'm the fucking spokesman.  "This is the projectionist booth.  There's no money here."

The robber's plan has gone horribly awry.  He's sober and professional and doesn't want to leave without the cash.  He asks us each our names so he can give us individual instructions.  He asks us where the money is and if we can get to it.  We have to walk him to the manager's office which requires that he walk out by the public restrooms where there can be customer contact.  We explain that to him.  He's ready to go for it.  He stands us up, giving us specific instructions not to "fucking look at him" and we're off to the manager's office.

I'm in front, Paul is second, Greg is next, and the robber is bringing up the rear.  As we're walking I hear the robber say, "Tom, you better not be fucking with me."  I notice that I've got some real separation between myself and everybody else.  I'm right next to an exit door and could bolt.  However, that would leave my two buddies with a armed felon who is now really stressed out.  Instead, I stop and let Paul and Greg walk past me so I'll be right in front of the robber, making him more calm and confident I'm not fucking around.

Now I'm walking too slow.  He starts pinging me in the back of the head with the barrel of the pistol.  It hurt and was annoying.  I almost told him to "cut it out" but stopped myself.  If it made him happy, I should let him do it.