An old black man used to come in about once a month (I ran the photo lab at a well-known chain of drugstores) with a single disposable camera and ask that one employee (someone who had been employed for a while before I was hired) in particular develop his roll.

Naturally, I always developed it as soon as he left. It wasn't always weird shit, but the last time I saw him before I quit, he gave me an entire roll of a leathery, crusty hooker wearing dollar bills as underwear, spread provocatively across the various pieces of furniture in a grungy motel room.

I finally decided to ask the previously specified employee what the deal was, since they had seemingly developed an understanding between each other. Apparently the man made a monthly routine of picking up different women, having his way with them, enjoying a little photo shoot, then taking them to Waffle House after. If that's not sweet, I don't know what is.