So you want to be a hero? Watch out for the boot

You've heard of the teller who stared down a gun and told the robber NO. Right? Happened at a St. Paul bank this week, and it wasn't because the robber forgot to put duct-tape on the barrel to hide the word NERF. Real gun, real threat.

The teller was apparently in no mood for this nonsense, and the robber left. I just hope she wasn't fired.

Because that's the standard response, you know. Not a party for Hero Teller with the bank president presenting a gold Timex, but the boot. We've all heard the stories: employees chased a shoplifter into the parking lot and held the thief until police could arrive. They were fired on the spot.

"We tell our employees not to take matters into their own hands," said a spokesman responsible for application of the large, soulless chain's inflexible rules. "If possible, we require our employees to assist the criminal to their escape vehicle, so we don't face a slip-and-fall suit if there's ice in the parking lot."

Once, in college, I chased a guy who stole an entire pie, and was assisted by some customers. It's remarkable the posse you can form when pie is at stake. Turned out it was a fraternity "stunt," and it was the banana cream, which was a letdown -- no one liked it, to be frank -- but it was still a deeply satisfying event for everyone, because we had thwarted crime.

Every boy who grows up on comic books wants the chance to thwart crime at some point, and it gives you a feeling of civic virtue that you just don't get from paying your taxes or coming to a full stop before turning right on red.

We weren't lectured. I wasn't fired. Got an attaboy from the boss, if I remember correctly. It's amazing the good will you can earn when you chase a pie thief regardless of the fact that you're paid one-third of minimum wage. The boss probably thought we'd take a bullet in a stick-up if he bumped us up to two bucks an hour.

They hadn't caught the bank robber at press time, but they will. Poor dear must have been stunned: no, I'm sorry, this isn't how it works. You hand it over, I go outside, the dye pack explodes and I look like the target in a blueberry-throwing contest, then I'm arrested. I've done this before, lady.

Police say he's robbed a few banks before, but if he continues to be unsuccessful at his craft, he'll either set up a business as a bank-robbing consultant, or get a job as a bank-robbery critic.

The good news? We're rooting for the teller. In the Depression, bank robbers were sometimes seen as heroes. People were mad at banks and enjoyed the exploits of nattily dressed hoodlums who helped themselves to the money while maintaining a certain courtly rapport with their victims.

The fact that the robbers were amoral sociopaths who spent their loot on hooch and molls instead of funding community food shelves -- well, details, details. They were hitting back against the manifestations of impersonal economic forces!

Eventually everyone soured on the crooks; the G-Men got the upper hand and had better publicity. We haven't gotten to the point where we're cheering on the miscreants who run away with your money. Well, the bank's money. Okay, money the bank got from TARP. Well, TARP money borrowed from China. But you know what I mean. Those guys are still the bad guys. Too bad the tellers can't be heroes.

I suppose we could all root for the anti-theft security devices, but they're bad role models for kids. If you think otherwise, wait until Halloween when you open a door, a kid spits grape juice at you, and tells you he's dressed up as a dye pack.

jlileks@startribune.com • 612-673-7858 More daily at www.startribune.com/buzz