“STOP!” he shouts, right as I’m about to take my money from the ATM in downtown Sofia. Alarmed, I turn around to find some bearded man standing right behind me, holding what — at first glance — looks like a gun. “Holy shit,” I think, “am I about to get jacked?”
“Oh wait, WTF, that’s not a gun,” I say to myself, as I remove my card from the machine. The “weapon” appears to be a large, hand-held lighter, or maybe a butane torch. “Is this guy going to burn me or something?!” I think, waiting the longest three seconds of my life for the ATM to spit out my money. Me staring, him rambling, I hear the word leva (the name of the Bulgarian currency) — maybe he’s trying to sell it to me? Worst. Salesman. Ever. I grab my money, stuff it into my pocket, and walk away quickly.
I’m still not sure if I was in danger of getting burned (for example) or if he just wanted to sell the damn thing to me. It will probably be a while before I go back to that ATM again, though!