The other day I robbed a bank unwittingly. I had come in to take out a loan, and without even my asking, the cashier gave me fifty thousand dollars in a bag. I wanted to sign a receipt for him, but he refused. He wouldn’t even let me thank him. Of course it seemed odd, but well, there are so many things that seem odd. I had never asked for a loan, so I thought “well, this must be the procedure.” But after a few days I hear about the robbery on the news. Then I put two and two together. I recalled that when I was walking into the bank, a guy curled up in a ball was coming out of it. Apparently, in the middle of the task the robber felt an urgent call of nature and had to rush out. Both of us must have been somewhat alike and, when I came in, the cashier thought the robber had snipped off to get some air. I was understandably upset at the news. I put the money back in the bag and ran to the bank to return it. But as soon as I walked in, the cashier started wringing his hands over me and, as I approached him, started filling a bag with money. I lunged at him to stop it, but he started squealing and begged me: “Don’t shoot! Take it! Take it all, but don’t shoot!” Of course, I denied that I was going to shoot, but it was useless, that man kept squealing, he was so hysterical that I dared not to contradict him. I just dropped the bag I was carrying and rushed towards the entrance. But the damned cashier followed me and put the two bags in my hands. I walked down the street panicking about what to do with all that money. I certainly couldn’t go to the police. They wouldn’t believe it was an unintented robbery. Restitution would be a mitigating factor, of course, but three or four years in prison… no one could take that away from me. So anyway, it couldn’t be helped, I had no choice but to keep the money.