Once upon a time, I used to work in a one-hour photo lab in a drug store. (This was before I worked in the free-standing one-hour photo lab in what used to be, I think, a Taco Bell, but that's neither here nor there....)
Anyhow, every now and again a customer, usually (but not always) a woman, would come up and start to drop off a roll of film with us, and then suddenly think better of it and ask if she could drop it into the slot where it was sent off to our overnight photo service instead.
A quizzically raised eyebrow on my part would usually be responded to with a blush and a "Well, you know, it's those kind of pictures..."
"Ah," I'd reply. "In that case, you'd probably be better off leaving the roll with us. I mean, sure, me and Kristen will see them but... Look, if you drop that film in there, it goes to a big building full of people; it's not like it gets developed by a little elf in a tree someplace."
And it's true. I've known more than one person who worked in overnight bulk photo processing facilities who had the most amazing albums full of color glossy 8"x10" photos of strangers doing things that would turn you white.
That's why this story doesn't even nudge my surprise-o-meter.