Easy come, easy go

A couple of months ago, I paid off my car. I was only halfway through my 5 year loan, but I was tired of paying double-digit interest, so I used some of the money I inherited from my grandmother, requested a payoff amount, and sent in the check. I got the paperwork back saying the loan was paid off, then a few weeks later, another envelope showed up in my mailbox. It looked like a check, so on the way back to the house, I started dreaming about the ways I was going to spend this windfall. Should I buy yarn? Books? Clothes? Then I opened the envelope. It was a check, all right. A check for $8.12. You read that right, eight dollars and twelve cents. Why did they bother? It probably cost them more than that to process and mail the stupid thing! That will barely buy me a steak quesadilla at La Fiesta, so the Margarita will come out of my own pocket. Sigh...