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From WikiStory

          Robert couldn't believe this was happening to him. One minute he was a nobody, just taking care of customers at the Quickmart counter, and the next minute he was staring into the dark tunnel of an angry rifle. Robert was saying "okay" he would hand over whatever they wanted. The guy holding the gun looked just like an innocent high school kid, young, smooth-cheeked, with his hair concealed in the gray hood of his sweatshirt. He could have been Robert's little brother. But he wasn't. The other wore dark sunglasses and a low winter hat over the ears -- unrecognizable -- but definitely a woman. She was fluid and graceful, like a ballet dancer, gliding among the stale aisles of the convenience store, delicately lifting her choices from the dusty shelves. The boy remained motionless and speechless, holding his weapon steadily.

          She dropped the basket on the counter. Robert nervously lowered his gaze to her collection. This was odd. They did not ask for money. And they were not taking the typical hoodlum loot. The basket was brimming with diapers, baby food, formula,and baby bottles. What the hell?

          Then the boy spoke: "Give her a bag." "What?" Robert asked stupidly, in a fog of shock and bewilderment.