Blood Money

(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*