It was Friday 12:45 PM when all that Drew knew changed. Later he would even remember the exact time down to the second, not that anybody would care at all.
As usual Drew woke up that morning, punctual, at 6 o’clock. The same tune would play from his outdated alarm clock. By routine the day stared with a nice cup of tea with a perfectly made fried egg and some bacon. Systematically cleaning his plate by eating egg, bacon, egg, sip of tea Drew got ready for another boring day at the office. But not to forget, office means a suit and tie. Oh those god awful things. Who had the idea that the most uncomfortable piece of clothing except for a corset, not that Drew had ever worn one, is considered mandatory to wear at the office. Bollocks. But being the supporter of mainstream conformism Drew wore his suit and tie with, I would not say pride but with some form of dignity.
Today would be a slow day for Drew. Some typing on his typewriter here and there, correcting a few mistakes and chatting with his colleagues about of course taxes. Why is it always taxes they are so interested in and not the new tie that Drew decided to wear just for today. Making his ordinary day just that little more special. Drew only lived two blocks away from the office building so he always eats his lunch at home. So he packed up his belongings, a black umbrella. Yes that is all he took to the office. His tiny black umbrella. Not even big enough to shield him from the rain when it decides to show its ugly head.
I already heard you wondering. This proper gentleman, this purebred English fellow. Where was the newspaper the common gentleman reads at the breakfast table. Well here is the thing. He gets the paper himself. Just later on the day so the bad news will not get him in the morning. Oh no, a gentleman has to be chipper at the office. And like any other day Drew went into the same little post office on the way to his cosy apartment. It may not be a fresh of the press newspaper but making his way downtown, walking fast, faces past and he is homebound Drew carries on.
As you may have noticed Drew is a man of routine. But for some odd reason today Drew’s what shall we call it guardian angel decided to take action. There on the front page printed in bold black lettering his name: Drew Thomas Beckingson. Drew moved faster than I have ever seen him move before. It was almost like he was at the counter and one second later bending over the table reading the headline.
Drew Thomas Beckingson, wanted criminal. Now, I think we can all agree that Drew is not a hardy criminal. Drew knew for a fact that the criminal they were looking for was called Drew Thomas Beckinson. That g there, should not have stood there that proudly printed in bold black. But there it is, right between the n and s. Quickly scanning the page over and over Drew’s name stared him right in the face. Wanted criminal, wanted for robbing the one of the most wealthy man in the neighbourhood.
Then at the door a loud banging, has this chap never heard of neighbours or something. Outrageous. Like the gentleman that Drew is he took one last glance at the paper and turned to open the front door. Before Drew had even the change to greet the rude man on his doorstep the barrel of a gun was shoved right in his face. “Seems like ya owe the boss some money mister Drew” the gun or rather the owner of the gun proclaimed. “How about we step inside mister Drew”. Not knowing what to do our poor chap Drew was pushed inside his kitchen. Roughly shoved into his chair the gun was pushed in his face again. “So where have ya hidden tha money ya bastard” asked the man. Drew swallowed. Oh dear god, how was he going to get out of this one?