Bank doors and cigarettes

I recently visited a T.G.I.Fridays in Ventura, California. In addition to listening to the staff sing happy birthday to FOUR different tables, I was forced to learn the calorie counts for all of their food which they have chosen to display all OVER that menu. That is not information that I can un-know. That may have been what started my shitty week. No one wants to know that there are 1,600 calories in a salad with chicken on it!
I have taken to sneaking cigarette breaks during work and then spraying myself down with body spray in order to disguise the fact that I am smoking. Very grown up. But, I did have a legitimate reason to be downstairs yesterday, as I also needed to make a deposit at the bank in the lobby. I walked inside from my smoking tryst and there was a police officer talking to the security guard at the front desk. The bank, which has apparently been held up multiple times, has bullet proof security doors that you have to enter one person at a time. The combination of those two facts and the way I was feeling (crazy),led me to fantasize about grabbing the officer's gun out of his holster and shooting the hell out of those bank doors. Then I thought about what the consequences of those actions would be. Clearly, I would have been arrested. I also might have accidentally killed someone. I'd go to jail and even if I only caused property damage, it probably would have been more trouble than it's worth. So, I didn't do it. I just made the deposit and went back to my desk.