My maternal Grandma Jane was driving, and I was in the passenger seat.  She parallel parked in a bad neighborhood, in front of a bar or something.  The parking brake was far over on the passenger side, and I had to pull it for her.  I did so, but the car still rocked back and forth.  We got out and in front of the joint was black plastic container with coins in it.  I considered taking money out of it to buy a newspaper, and took a handful of coins.  Then a person was leaving the place and I decided it was wrong.  I turned and dropped all but one of the coins back in, counting as I dropped.  75 cents.  I held on to one silver coin with permanent ink that said 3- 60 on it, indicating it's value of 60 cents.  I decided it was okay to keep this one though as it was a foreign coin and unusable to the person anyhow.  I dropped the coins in the bucket and the person leaving thanked me, thinking I was giving them money rather than simply putting it back.  Then my mother got there.  She asked me about the car parking and handed me the keys, asking me to move it.  Where it was was apparently not acceptable and the 'correct' place to park it required a 3-point turn, which Grandma Jane couldn't do.