Wait, Did I Just Almost Get Robbed?: A 1990s Summertime Tale

Wait, did I just almost get robbed?

That was the thought that was swirling through my head after one of the strangest encounters of my teenage years. The answer was, maybe? I guess?

For this story, we need to take a trip back to the good old days of the 1990s. The summer of 1995, to be more specific. It was nearing the end of the summer, at least the part of the summer where kids were out of school.

I was seventeen years old and getting ready to begin my senior year of high school. Being that it was the 90s, and I was a nice, responsible young man, I had already been working during the summers for the last five years.

Granted, I wasn’t raking in loads of cash as a dishwasher and food prep boy, but it was good enough that I was looking to secure a little bit of a status symbol. No, it wasn’t a car, or some fancy sneakers, or anything like that. What I wanted was something different. I wanted something to show off my minuscule financial wealth to my friends. I wanted an ATM card.

ATM cards, debit cards, whatever you want to call them, had been popular since the 1980s. Before then, you had to go inside the bank and write a slip and go to a teller to withdraw money.

Being an introvert, having a way to get money from my bank account without having to talk to anyone was a dream come true. The bank I had my account through was Cape Cod Bank & Trust. They went out of business after being bought in a merger in 2004, to show how old I am.

Typically if I was out riding bikes with my friends, I’d stop at a CCB&T ATM so I wouldn’t incur a ridiculous user fee. However, for this story I would have had to have gone in the opposite direction to where I wanted to go to find a branch. I decided the dollar surcharge, which I believe is what it was at the time, was worth it.

It was later in August. The sun was setting around 7:30pm on Cape Cod. I wanted to get some money from the ATM and then hit up the nearest convenience store for some surely healthy snacks. It was probably some bottles of Jolt Cola to fuel late-night outdoor adventures.

My friend Rob came along. It was getting close to dusk. We had been having fun messing around after dinner, so we started off from my house later than we should have. Our neighborhood was always quiet, so we rode right down the middle of the road as the streetlights began popping on over our heads.

At this time in 1995, the nearest ATM I knew of was a branch of Cape Cod 5 located on the outer edge of a shopping plaza near a highway entrance. The ride to that ATM was roughly 1.5 miles. We were in the parking lot in a little over ten minutes.

The bank in question.

Rob and I laid our bikes in the grass. This ATM was an indoor one. I had to slide my card into a reader to get the door to open after hours. Being teenage boys, neither of us looked around as we did this.

I slid my card through; the door beeped, and we both entered. I was laughing at something funny that Rob had said. I wish I could remember what it was. Suddenly the laughter was cut short by banging on the door.

We both spun around, and standing at the glass door was a man. It was hard to tell how old he was, as the light was brighter inside the bank than outside, so he was silhouetted. What was for sure was he was trying to get in.

He banged on the door again, and this time he began shouting.

“Access the door!” He screamed. Rob and I were both confused and scared. I believe one of us shouted, ‘What?’ This only angered this guy more. “Access the door!” The man shouted again.

This was 1995. Neither Rob nor I had cell phones. There were payphones nearby, but this would have meant having to go outside and past this stranger who was furiously trying to get inside with us.

We needed one of these inside the bank.

Looking back, I don’t know what the best course of action would have been. Fear took over a little, and I foolishly opened the bank door to let this person in.

Why was he there? Because he believed that we were thieves who had somehow stolen someone’s ATM card and were now going to use it to steal their money.

How do I know that? Because he said as much as he angrily demanded that I give him my card. That was a bridge too far. I refused and told him it was mine as he accused me of being a thief.

This man had to be over fifty. I have no idea where he had been or what led him to think that pursuing a pair of teenage boys into a bank after hours was a good idea, but it was irrelevant at that point. We were trapped as he stood looming over us.

“I’m going to watch you as you make this transaction,” the angry man said. I think he thought he was calling my bluff. Rob stayed facing the man while I turned my back. I punched in my code, hiding it from the man.

I believe I withdrew ten dollars. The machine spat out the cash. I quickly grabbed it and stuffed it into my wallet along with my card again. At this point I turned around and faced the man.

Seeing that it was indeed my ATM card and that we weren’t thieves, he muttered ‘ok’ or something dumb before getting out of there as fast as he could. He must have had an epiphany of how the whole situation looked and knew he had screwed up.

Rob and I waited a minute or two before stepping out into the darkness. It was a beautiful, if humid, night on Cape Cod. We were thrilled that the lunatic hadn’t done any damage to, or stolen, our bikes.

I can’t remember what exactly we said to each other after, but I am sure it was something along the lines of ‘what the hell just happened?’ We had gone to grab a little cash for a snack run and ended up in the middle of a scene from America’s Most Wanted.

Teenagers are resilient though. We hadn’t been hurt. We hadn’t been robbed. So we chalked it up to some idiot thinking he was going to be a hero but ended up being a complete jackass.

We still did our snack run. We returned to my house, and there were a few other kids around. In the 1990s and in that neighborhood, darkness didn’t mean everyone went inside. Rob and I dropped our bikes in the wood chips at the very edge of the front yard near the quiet street.

Loads of bikes in the front yard were common in the 90s

The retelling of our story likely began with ‘you won’t believe what happened.’ I remember telling the story to at least one of my sisters, maybe one of Rob’s brothers and my brother, and also Mikey, who was down visiting Cape Cod during weekends in the summer as he did back then.

As the years go by and some details, like what we got at the convenience store after, get hazy, I still firmly remember the sound of the banging on the glass door and that guy shouting for us to ‘access the door.’

The other kids looked at us in shock and awe. We had survived a brush with death, or at least we made it sound like we did. It was certainly not an average adventure that I was used to on Cape Cod.

I can’t remember when I told my mother about what had happened. I know that when Rob told his mother, she was livid. She wanted to go to Cape Cod 5 the next business day and ask them to check the security footage to see the guy who had caused this trouble. Nothing came of it, though.

It has been thirty-one years since a man shouted at me to access the door of a dark and relatively isolated ATM. I have never had an experience like that again. I will say that I didn’t go back to that Cape Cod 5 ATM for any withdrawals for many years. It was like I expected that weirdo to be lurking in the bushes waiting for me to come back.

For as much as Rob and I made jokes about that guy after the fact, there is no denying that it was a scary situation while it was happening. Until he vanished into the night, there was no telling how things were going to end.

He could have been an addict trying to get some cash for drugs. He could have had a gun, or a knife. He could have been a whack job looking to get his rocks off by assaulting teenage boys. These were all real possibilities as we stood face to face with an angry older stranger.

Luckily it never got to that. I stupidly accessed the door, and then he watched ominously while I used my ATM card to withdraw some of the money I had earned by working. Then he scurried away after realizing what a stupid mistake he had made.

I do wonder if we had tried, if Rob and I could have beat the hell out of him. It would have been the ultimate irony. This guy thinks he’s going to foil some thieving kids like he’s a Scooby-Doo villain, but we end up not only not being thieves but then whopping his ass.

That Cape Cod 5 location is still in business, and on the off chance I go by there, I can still hear ‘access the door’ ringing in my ears. I wonder what ever happened to that guy? Did he ever tell the story to someone? He probably didn’t. Or if he did, in his version, he thwarted a pair of giant meathead guys trying to rob a little old lady.

I am so blessed and lucky to have grown up when I did. There really will never be another time like the 1990s. It was the last decade where you weren’t bound by technology. When you spent summer outside until the streetlights came on, and sometimes even after.

It was a time I wish I could go back to. A time that I wouldn’t trade for anything. Even if every now and then you had to deal with creepy older guys looking to chaperone your bank visit. But hey, that’s a fair trade for all of the good stuff.

The 90s on Cape Cod were something else.

Initial Impressions 2.0 Blog #95: Two Idiots, Northern Lights Part Deux, More Back Woes, etc.

1. How many Amazon drivers does it take to deliver a 3-ounce package? Apparently, two of them. They both walked up to the front door at my work, in the rain, left a padded envelope on the ground, and walked away. They were the first delivery guys I’ve seen in my time there that didn’t just open the door and walk in to leave a package, especially since we were open. Oh, and it ended up being for the business next door. Oh, and they didn’t pull into the parking lot; rather, they chose to block the road. Several people were beeping their horns. Not a pair of Einsteins there.


2. I was at the supermarket and watched while some old lady was scooping chicken nuggets from the hot bar into a container. She decided to just grab another nugget and eat it in full view of me and anyone else. You know, I get it, you’re old and you want to do what you want since you’re at the 1-yard line of life, but I’m also tired of people doing whatever the hell they want while I do my best to actually follow rules. I gave her a dirty stare, but of course, the old bag didn’t care. I guess the ‘no sampling’ sign doesn’t matter to Gummy McGee, or she’s too blind to be able to read it. In that case, she should just have someone else do her shopping for her.


3. I have been grinding heavy with my content work for the past 5 years. It was once I began my podcast that I truly took a turn into being a creator. Before then, I had 5 books published and stuck to that lane as far as chasing a dream of being self-employed. After the podcast, though, I went hard at that, crafting YouTube videos, writing more in this blog, having 5 more books published, and any other form of creativity I could find. It can get tough as all of the work takes time and effort, and the rewards can be slow to come, or not at all. I look for inspiration to keep going sometimes. One person I look to is the host of my favorite podcast, Solomonster Sounds-Off. I’ve been listening to this pro wrestling show since 2012. He just celebrated his 18th year doing his show. The reason he inspires me is that he busted his ass for years, much like I am doing. He worked full-time and spent all of his other free time creating content. Then, a few years ago, he was finally able to quit his day job and become fully self-employed. I’ve reached out to him several times, asking for advice, and he always says it’s about putting in the work and being consistent until you build your audience. This week, I sent him a long email about how he inspires me to keep going. His response was so appreciated. He told me that the fact that I was still going after 5 years told him I had the drive that most others don’t. He told me to keep going, thanked me for my support, and that I had a fan in him. Even if he was just being nice, it means so much when someone who inspires you gives you positive affirmation. I might not be self-employed yet, but I feel like someday I will if I just keep putting in the work.


4. We’ve gotten to the time of year where the weather has flipped from unseasonably warm to unseasonably cold. It went from near 60 with rain one day to 35 with wind chills of 25 the next. Cue the ‘well, it is November’ crowd. Yes, I am nearing a half-century old I have been through the seasons a few times. That doesn’t mean the first cold and windy day doesn’t take some getting used to. I had debated going out to shoot the sunset. Luckily, the clouds rolled in enough to make staying inside easier. That being said, the same exact type of weather day, say in February, will feel much warmer than it did this week. Oh, and the sunset was at 4:25, sweet.


5. So I got this different, stronger melatonin mix with chamomile and lavender and other things. I have been using it to make sure I get to sleep on time. Believe me, this stuff works. 2 gummies and within 30 minutes, I am swan diving into bed. How well do they work? This week, we had a rare and spectacular Aurora Borealis show on Cape Cod. I had popped the gummies before I knew it was going on. Once I saw the first amazing photos come across my social media, it was already too late. I tried to get up to get dressed and maybe go out to try my luck. Nope, my body was like nah, Northern Lights are no big deal, get to bed. I missed the Northern Lights because my new melatonin is so strong.

6. Why is it that anytime I wreck my back, I never have a good story? It’s never ‘I saved someone from drowning,’ or ‘I was hit by a car pushing a baby carriage out of the way.’ Nope, it’s something dumb like ‘oh I turned and bent the wrong way pressing a button and my lower back exploded. That was this week. One of the worst pains. Basically, I didn’t brace properly, and my QL muscle (look it up) seized up trying to stabilize me. This seizure caused my pelvis to be thrust out of alignment. Thankfully, my boss is a chiropractic wizard, among other things, and he realigned my hip, but the pain was still excruciating. I couldn’t bend, which didn’t help since I had a client to train right after being adjusted. Nothing better for a sore back than lifting weights and moving equipment around. I would have gone home early or called out the next day, but the Aurora Borealis were possibly back that night, and I needed to try to make good for missing them the previous night.


7. As far as the actual Aurora Borealis, it was a waiting game that ultimately paid off. With my ruined back, I wasn’t sure how I’d manage to go and look for them. Lucky for me, my buddy Steve’s wife, Amanda, was kind enough to let him borrow her car, which has heated seats. They weren’t a magic cure or anything, but they definitely helped. Our first stop at Bass Hole in Yarmouth Port was a bit of a bust as the clouds dominated. There were probably 20 or so people there, a far cry from the 200+ there last year when I went to watch the Northern Lights. The next stop was just down the road on Wharf Lane. It faces Sandy Neck Beach. Here, Steve and I waited for 45 minutes, not seeing much of anything. It seemed like it was going to be a disappointment. I decided to go and grab a few long exposure shots of this abandoned piece of wharf. I mean, I had dragged my injured self out, so I needed some sort of memento, right? Steve took a photo and was the one to notice the pinks and greens in the sky. Remember, you typically can’t see the Aurora Borealis with the naked eye, but your camera or phone can. Once I saw those colors, it was off to the races. We spent the next 20 or so minutes getting as many photos as we could. It ended up being 2 ½ hours chasing the lights for 20 minutes of action, but the photos and adventure were definitely worth it.

One of several good photos of the Northern Lights.

8. There are very few things in my life that make me as happy as spending a few minutes with my little niece Sylvie before she gets on the school bus. I can only do it on Fridays since I work from home that day, but she always remembers and looks forward to it. This week, I was a little late as I had to hobble myself over there with my ruined back. We took a selfie to send to my mom for her birthday. Then it got better as I was invited to take a drive to Sylvie’s school to drop her off. We had a lot of laughs as we usually do, mostly about how old I am. She gave me a little Wendy’s Frosty toy. I had to remember to take it when I got back since she’d notice I left it and be upset. I cherish these times as I did with my other 5 nieces and nephews, because at some point, she will get to the age that her crazy uncle isn’t fun anymore, and she’ll want to go spend time with her own friends. Luckily, I think I have several more years until that happens, and I will always make sure I have time for her, no matter what is going on in my life.


9. It’s amazing as I sit here to see that the New England Patriots are back. They currently are 9-2, leading the AFC East, headed for the playoffs, and it’s only just beginning. Now I know their schedule is very easy due to only winning 4 games each of the last 2 seasons, but you can only play who is on the opposite sideline. The hype train is crazy. I do get flashbacks to 2001 when Tom Brady was a nobody ‘managing’ the game. Drake Maye is 23, Mike Vrabel is a great coach, they are one of the best teams in the NFL currently, and the crazy part is they have tons of salary cap room. This means as good as they are now, they technically could be only getting better in the next few years. I have to stay cautiously optimistic but it’s hard not to get excited about the team for the first time since Brady left. Oh, wait, I mean, since Brady was pushed out, back in 2019.


10. Dedication to the craft means that, despite having a back injury that had me lying with a heating pad on for days, I still felt the need to scale a 6-foot kayak rack to get a better vantage point for a sunset photo. My back hurt before and after, but in those few moments, it was like my common sense brain shut off, and I climbed up the rack and then used my trusty selfie stick to get a pretty nice photo. Luckily, I didn’t make anything worse, but it is still pretty funny how the part of my brain that senses danger checks out when I am faced with a potentially amazing photograph. Oh, and here it is.



11. I like some good loud music as much as anyone. Maybe I am becoming the old man, but if it’s close to 10pm and I can hear the bass of your music in your car over my TV, then it’s too loud. People are trying to sleep, and these scumbags drive by slowly blasting their music. It’s not a one-time thing either; it’s nearly every night. Maybe it’s not the same people, but it sure feels like it is. They are so much like clockwork that sometimes I feel like hiding in the bushes outside and whipping a rock through their window as they drive by. Oh well, I can at least daydream about doing it, that comes with 100% jail time.


12. On a totally unrelated note, I was surfing around YouTube and I found this insanely funny video. Jurassic Park, but with Pee-Wee Herman as the dinosaurs. Trust me, you’ll laugh.




13. I like dogs, but I love cats. When I am out for a walk, if you are with your giant dog who is aggressively jumping toward me, don’t get offended if I look at you and shake my head in anger. The only thing that stopped that dog from trying to mount me was a car that passed. It sure wasn’t going to be the scuzzy-looking stick figure guy walking it. It’s only on rare occasions that I see these types of people. In fact, on the same walk, I saw several super cute dogs that I wanted to pet, but you know my back is still held together with tape and zip ties.