The Daily Paragraph -- Unwanted Bills

For the second time in about two and a half years, we received a single greasy dollar bill in the mail in an envelope with no return address. Last time I didn't think much about it, but Duckie was pretty freaked out.  My rationale was that a friend sent us the money to compensate us for feeding a parking meter on his behalf.  Receiving the second dollar in the same fashion pretty much put a knife in the heart of that little fantasy. I decided not to take any chances this time. I opened the letter in the backyard wearing a pair of disposable nitrile gloves, and once I confirmed the contents (one dollar, no note) I crumpled everything up and tossed it in the trash. If this whole exercise is a joke to somebody, I don't get it. If it's a game, I don't know the rules, and I don't want to play. If it's a mistake, well, it's weird and I still don't get it. The final option is that we're the beneficiaries of the oddly generous actions of  a nut job. In any case, I'd like it to stop.