Oldguy, disguised as a street mime,
hands the teller a gunny sack
and discreetly tells her to fill it
with C-notes. Tired of trying to squeeze
a living out of his Social Security,
he’s going to see if crime really pays.
But he’s forgotten his hearing aids,
so his request echoes off the bank’s
marble walls. The guard, seeing
an unarmed geezer wearing a beret,
thinks it’s some kind of joke. Smirking,
he mock-pleads with Oldguy not
to shoot, then hands him his gun
as the teller and customers breathe easier.
Oldguy, now armed, reshouts his request,
which now seems much more serious.
His sack filled, Oldguy politely returns
the gun to the guard, who concludes
this was an on-location filming of CSI:
Miami, Dallas, or whatever. Hoping
this is his chance to finally get
into show business, he straightens up
to full height and orders everyone
to take a break as Oldguy shuffles
out the revolving doors, thinking
who’d have thought crime could be
so dull. The Oldguymobile, disguised
as a Phillies cigar ad, covers his escape
with a series of backfires, geargrinds,
and a cloud of tear-inducing exhaust.