It was the busiest week of the holiday season, and I was the Assistant Branch Manager at one of the largest bank chains in the center of Manhattan. Money couldn't run out, especially at a time where people were spending tons of money buying gifts for their loved ones. Every year, the bank scheduled to receive extra deliveries of cash to keep our vaults full through the holidays.
Since during the day was too hectic, I came in after hours that Friday night to wait for the delivery. At precisely eight, I watched through the glass store front as the red and black armored truck pulled off the road into the parking lot. I met up with the regular driver, John, at the back door of the branch. He cut off the engine and climbed down from the driver's seat and walked to the back of the truck. I stole a glance as he unlocked and the back doors, his muscular arms bulging in his short sleeved uniform as he pushed the heavygalvanizedsteel open. He didn't notice me standing there until he was unloading boxes and a few cleat bags of bills onto the hand truck.
"Hey Chelsea! How long have you been waiting? John called to me.
"Just a minute," I lied.
"Ready for the holiday rush?" He jumped off the truck and slammed the doors shut and pulled the hand truck behind him.
"I'm never ready for any rush." I said as I held the door for him.
"Thanks."
"No problem," I said closing the door behind us and locking it.
"Is the vault opened yet?"
"No, let me grab my keys and I'll unlock it." I stepped over to my work station and snatched up the ring of keys and my bottle of water. "You want one? I asked, holding up a bottle from the 6-pack I kept in my desk drawer.