Randall's thoughts returned to the issue at hand. He needed money fast—money to finance the next step in his total plan.  He had to be in New York by the end of the week without question. There could be no more mistakes.

 Randall drove up to the Mid-States National Bank that he had cased for the last month. The bank and the parking lot were small. There was no guard and mostly drive-through business.  There were only two tellers and one desk for the manager.  Perfect. 

Randall put on his sunglasses and walked in as quickly as he could. Quick was difficult because the high heels made it hard to navigate the rough pavement. The tight skirt wasn't helping either.  A quick glance in the bank's window, displayed him in feminine glory. He looked pretty cute as a girl.  Well, middle-aged lady.

The bank's lobby was nearly deserted, so he pivoted, then strolled up to the young, black female teller.  He hated to hit a sister but it was what it was.

As he walked up she beamed excitedly and said, "Nice glasses! I was looking for a pair just like that. Where did you get 'em?"

He hesitated and said in his most feminine voice, "Marshall's? I—I think." 

The girl continued, "I didn't know Marshalls sold—Oh, my God those are Gucci's aren't they." She hushed her voice like she didn't want anyone else in on the secret. "Marshall's sellin' Gucci, girl?"

Randall had the note in his hand ready to go but was thrown off guard by these questions. "Uh...Sure they do...I think," he said.

"Hell, Marshall's sellin' Gucci, lemme see, girl."

Randall didn't know quite what to do, so instead of causing any commotion he snatched off the glasses and handed them to her. Immediately he realized that he might be found out and held his hand out to get them back.

She ignored him, examining the logo. "These real alright. You know folks sellin' a lotta knock-offs out there today." She handed the glasses back as Randall lowered his head and put them back on. He tossed the note on the counter and scanned the bank. "Girl, every now and then you can catch a deal at Marshall's, I bought this pair of....

"Hush!" he said, still trying to keep the feminine timbre. "Read the note!" he snapped.

She stopped talking, a little surprised at his change in attitude. She read the note with a curious expression. It read:

Give me the money or I'll blow your fucking brains out.  Now!

Her plastic smile faded and her cheeks began to tremble uncontrollably. Her hands shook as she reached into the drawer. Randall said softly still smiling, "Just act natural, I've got a gun but I don't want to hurt you. Don't make me hurt you. And none of that funny money, please."

Her cheeks still shook as she gingerly placed a stack of bills on the counter. Randall quickly glanced over her shoulder at the guys who were serving the drive-in customers.  Their attention remained on the cars. He took the stack of bills and put it in a white plastic grocery bag. 

He lowered his voice, saying, "More!" 

The girl took another stack, then another. Too much money piled up on the counter too fast.  Randall stuffed another stack in the bag and one in his jacket pocket.  He backed away from the counter fast, turned and walked swiftly out the door.

Once out the door, he turned around the corner of the bank and broke into a sprint, putting as much distance between him and the bank as possible.

Just around the corner of the bank was a parking lot, he walked between two cars, disrobing with each brisk step, moving fast but not fast enough to attract attention. He snatched off the wig, and then ripped off the Velcro-rigged dress in one movement, like a basketball player in warm-ups. He kicked off the high heels and caught them in the air as he walked.

He crossed the lot, picking up pace as he focused on Donny's Donut Shoppe behind the bank.  He removed the slip-on gym shoes from his pockets, threw them on the ground in front of him, stepped evenly into them and kept moving.  Unfolding a black plastic garbage bag, he shoved the clothes, wig and cash into it. 

He did all this in about five steps. By the time he hit the seventh step, he had cleared the cars and once again looked like a man.  He crossed a short patch of grass and was in Donny's lot where he had parked his car. He hit a button on his key ring and the trunk of his car popped open. He tossed the Glad bag in and slammed it shut.  He then slowed up, making a swift left turn, and strolled towards the donut shop as though he had just come from his car. 

At a spot near the door, he watched as the tellers ran around the corner, splitting in separate directions, searching frantically for the culprit.

The black girl, who forked over the stacks of cash, ran across the grass in his direction. She paused near the door of the shop, then looked over at him for a second, then yelled out. "Did you see a black lady in sunglasses come around here?  He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders no. She turned, then ran in the opposite direction, and disappeared back around the corner of the bank.