So, mi Mudda in her infinite wisdom (we will make no mention of her miserableness and contrary personality here), always seh: “If you born fi hang, yu cyaan drown.” Turns out this could apply to the poor Filipino security guard who was shot during the robbery of the Cayman National Bank last year.
The poor fellow, now apparently fully recovered from those wounds, was on duty at the Cayman Islands Port Authority, when some kind of container or crane (facts dependant on who you talk to) fell on the poor fellow and killed him dead. The rumour mill has the poor man split into two halves; decapitated and / or squashed but the only consistency that I can obtain from the stories, is that a shovel was somehow employed in cleaning up the mess. Of course, this could also mean that a shovel was nearby and somehow fell to the ground. But, who knows.
I was amazed at the power of the Caymanian rumour mill today, as I received three different telephone calls and seven emails about the demise of the poor fellow. By the time the Caymanian Compass is published tomorrow, the news will be stale. I must say, one of my first inclinations was to let out a morbid little giggle, as the entire thing immediately reminded me of the Final Destination series.
The man obviously never had good legal representation after the shooting, or maybe his employer had air tight indemnities built into his work contract, for I cannot begin to imagine why he was back at work and not sitting back at the Ritz Carlton sipping martinis and waiting for a big fat settlement, or claiming some kind of disability. Is this where I say "only in the USA"? I must ask my good pal RI if he ain’t been doing some ambulance chasing to drum up some business, cause I am sure that the prospective fees from the Filipino man’s lawsuit would have been a wonderful addition to his coffers.
Caymanian security guards or policemen are not allowed to carry guns, so they must have expect the poor man fi’ fling he baton or walkie talkie at the robbers, when he did see dem coming. It is a royal fool who will get shot or killed when guarding other people's property for a mere pittance per hour. I know if I were he and I saw the robbers coming, I would’a help them to collect and stuff the money from the Tellers in their get away bags should they become tired and need an extra hand. Those guns are very heavy after all, and I would hate for them to lighten the load by releasing bullets. The bank's gots lots more moneys. I only have one life. A coward man without a gun lives to flee another day.
Makes me wonder about the poor man’s last words when he did see the something falling on him. If I were he, I know that I would have some extra bargaining and begging to do with St. Peter when trying to negotiate my way though the Pearly Gates, cause “Oh Fuck…!!!” more than likely would be my final words.
On that note, I shall now exit.