(A customer walks up to my teller window, and throws two rolls of pennies down. They are covered in wet blood. I try not to look disgusted.)
Me: “Sir, I’m sorry; I can’t accept that.”
Customer: “Why not? It’s good American money.”
Me: “I’m sure it is, but it’s covered in blood; I’m not going to touch that.”
Customer: “It’s fine; it’s just my blood.”
Me: “Excuse me while I get my manager.”
(I happily escape to the back to try to settle my stomach while the manager talks to the man.)
Manager: “Sir, we can’t accept these pennies like this.”
Customer: “It’s perfectly good American money!”
Manager: “Yes, but we can’t take it like this. If you like, I can give you new wrappers. You can re-roll the pennies, and then we can deposit them for you.”
Customer: “F*** this country! My money isn’t good in a bank; it isn’t good anywhere!”*storms out*
No comments:
Post a Comment