Life would be so much easier if I didn't have morals.

I went to the ATM today to deposit some checks. I waited patiently for the red suburban in front of me to finish his transaction. He left, I pulled up to the ATM—a perfect distance away. Pleased with myself, I rolled down my window to find the ATM beeping at me. Unsure why, I started looking around to see if, perhaps, there was a bomb attached. Nope, no bomb. Instead, it was screaming at me, telling me to take the $200 cash sitting in in. Assuming it belonged to the red suburban who was still trying to turn left onto 9th East, I pulled forward, ready to jump out of my car and run up to him. Just as I unlocked my door, he pulled out onto the street. I backed back into the ATM all crooked, about to crash into the brick pillar, just far enough away that I had to open my door and squeeze out to get an envelope, then turn at an awkward angle to get everything in. That's what I get for trying to give this guy his money. I put the money in an envelope, planning on returning it to the bank on Monday, since I assume they keep records of who withdrew money at what time and can get the money back to Mr. Red Suburban.

I'm just glad my momma taught me good values so that I'm not actually tempted to keep it.