These Aren't Happy Feet

So, this stocky loud guy in his 50s with a black NYPD shirt, unshaven, with his mom/girlfriend/daughter creature just came up to pick up his printouts. He had printed out 16 sheets of all the nearest "shrinks" (his word). He only wanted six pages so he proceeded to dig out of his sock one dime, and then another dime, until he rolled off his sock (still standing somehow) and took out all the necessary dimes. He told me his socks were "stinky" (again---his word) and that I should soak the dimes in Clorax first. I genially nodded and whispered a chuckle--until he leaned forward to say,

"No, I'm serious. You need to soak those in Clorax."

I told him I'd take them in the back and do just that.

That's right, we're in the money laundering business here at the library...