(Also, the management did shit for me. I got one or two pats on the back and a hefty psychiatric bill. The cops thanked me for my bravery, but my boss never did. FYI.)
And the closer we get to the date that all happened, Feb. 3rd, the closer I seem to get to freaking the hell out big time.
I thought I'd be over this by now.
See, there's a part of me, mind you, that's deeply PROUD of what happened. It's like that line in the song "The Impression That I Get" by the Mighty Mighty Bosstones ...
The line goes:
"I'm not a coward, I've just never been tested.
I'd like to think that if I was I would pass."
And see, I DID get tested! And I passed! Two police officers and the employees who survived the incident with me all agreed that if it wasn't for my level head, bravery, and calm demeanor that night, that things no doubt would have ended violently. So I was put to the test and passed. I'm a hero. I saved lives that night.
But at the same time, the guy completely snuck right up on me. I never saw him coming. It was just like, I turn around and BAMM, guy with a gun. It just happened suddenly. It happened without warning.
And it could just as easily happened again.