I Was Robbed at Gunpoint on My First Night on the Job

And what I learned about memory and fear

Photo by Max Kleinen on Unsplash

Between college semesters I took a job in about 1979 working the graveyard shift at a Citgo Quick mart. It was a gas station and a really small convenience store a little north of Downtown Shreveport.

This was years before Shreveport opened its first casino and there really weren’t many job opportunities in the town. So, I took the work.

The owner was a friend of my stepdad. He met me on the first night and showed me the ropes.

Then he left. It was just me, myself, and I at that point.

I remember some young guy was too young to buy cigarettes and when I asked for an I.D., he huffed and didn’t puff, and he left with a scowl on his face.

The night dragged on, and my customers were few and far between.

Then a man in his early twenties pulled really close to the building and opened the door in a hurry. The dirty water blond man scoped the place out and pulled out a gun!

I almost had an out-of-body experience. My heart came up in my throat, and my heart rate was off the chart.

He yelled, “Give me all the money!” A sinister look contorted his face.