What was wrong with her? Nemo didn't think people were actually this generous. At least, he hadn't met anyone who was willing to give him that amount of money for junk (if anything at all), and also transport it without complaint. He regarded her dubiously for a moment, but took the money gently. For now, it went in the pocket of his olive cargo shorts. Later, it would go in the motorcycle jar. Or maybe he'd get a Vespa.
"You're crazy," he said, but it was appreciative. He took out a couple of bungee chords anyway. "Do you take this out on the freeway?" he asked of the Vespa, nodding vaguely toward it as he lifted the snow chains onto his shoulder. If she was going to do all that, the least he could do was carry the stuff out for her.