You would be lying if you said you didn't expect this to happen when you stuck your head- well, the top half of your body through the tight window. Your butt has always been too big for the rest of you and, let's face it, you are utterly, completely stuck. That's fine, though! You hear someone approaching you from behind, so you call out for help.
~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~
You feel like it's a scam.
It sounds too good to be true.
They let you sit on the money for a week. You know about the scams with bounced checks and all that and they know you know about it, so you wait a week, make sure the money in your bank is actually staying there.
Five days after you've received the money, you check with your bank to make sure that the money is legit.
The teller is sick of her job and tells you that if the money's in your bank and came from a reputable source, you don't have to worry about it. You're not sure if it's a reputable source.
You tell the teller that you do online freelancing.
"What kind of freelancing?" she asks.
"Porn," you answer before your brain and come up with a better response. Literally anything else would have been better than the word that just leapt out of your mouth. You're terrible at impromptu answers.
She flushes and don't ask more questions, so you've got that going for you, at least. Doing porn isn't illegal. She helps you check if the company is listed and flush even harder at the wealth of information that is provided to her.
You realize you should have done that yourself, but it's too late now. You deserve to be humiliated for wasting the nice bank teller's time, who is probably going above and beyond for you at this point.
The money is good.
The money is good.
She asks if you would like to withdraw some money. You nod because you feel like you should do something slightly useful since you're already here.
How much? you echo because you're not used to there being extra money in the bank that you're able to withdraw. How much is a reasonable amount? Two hundred? you ask cautiously.
She presses a few buttons on the screen and you have a feeling, by the way the people behind you are side-eyeing and glaring at you, that this is something you should be doing in the self-service banking machine. She hands you two hundred in crisp bills and tells you to have a nice day.