Without the drug war, I'm pretty sure that The Bank Robber on a Bicycle would have become just a routine gutter drunk, or maybe an AA type who finally got things back together as best he could. Now, I'm pretty sure that he's a routine gutter drunk with a felony criminal record, or maybe an AA type with a felony criminal record who finally got things back together as best he could.
A nice enough kid, though. We met in a cubicle at FCI (Federal Correctional Institution) Texarkana where we were each assigned to one of the four bunks, and the beer didn't really get him busted, the meth did. He could afford a string of thirty packs, but he really hankered for a buzz with a bit more kick. That's where the meth came in, and the "bank robbery", because, well, meth is in a whole other price league from legal alcohol. So, when the meth ran out, and still hoping to avoid the crash, the kid put a sixer on the bike handlebars, and a note in his pocket, and managed to time his arrival at the bank for morning opening. I think he was like a block into the ride back home when the die pack blew up, and the cop car rolled up.
Some argued that the kid got saved and I'm like "I'm not really sure that it's as black and white as all that."