I just found a receipt on my desk. It’s for a damaged “Othello” CD, returned to a company in San Francisco, dated 1/29/94. I have no idea where it came from, or how it got to my desk, or where it’s been for the past 21 years. The only thing I do know is that I never saw it before.
This could be the beginning of an epic adventure, with wacky hijinks, comedy Nazis, and possibly time travel. Find a sidekick for comic relief, brush up your jiu-jitsu, then prepare yourself for a rollicking journey.
I blame Iago.
That’s weird.
The other day I received a letter from a debt collector. It was from I debt I occurred some 27 years ago. (I was 18) The debt was for a grand total of $47.
Not quite the same as the OP, but still bizarre.
Shit, my bad.
Just throw it out and pretend I was never there, lesson learned.
Your desk at work or your desk at home?
It’s an apport: Apport (paranormal) - Wikipedia
We need a spooky smillie.
Sometimes it takes Commissaire Javert a while to get around to the *really * petty crimes.
We need picture of said desk and surrounding area in order to come up with theories.
I once had an a/c vent above my work area spontaneously eject a post it note with an indecipherable phone number on it. Damn thing just floated down while I’m on a conference call. Maintenance later found a shitload of them in the ducts, some with notes, some blank.
I purchased a used car, and after about six months dollar bills started appearing on the floor of the passenger’s side. Poking around, I found a wad of fifty ones stuffed behind the back of the glove compartment. The rubber band had dried out and broken, or I’d never have known the money was there.
OP, maybe a co-worker found the old receipt and put it on your desk just to mess with you. 
I find such things used as bookmarks and separators. Could it have fallen out of a book or file?
When I was in school, I was somewhat known for carrying odd things in my backpack, partly because I tended to “clean” my room by stuffing loose items into whatever container was handy. My friends had grown accustomed to seeing me produce all manner of things–bits of hand-wired circuitry, repurposed lasers, tools, vials of chemicals, and occasionally even books. As such, no one was at all surprised when I pulled a rubber chicken out of the pack…except me.
You see, I didn’t have a rubber chicken. I had never even seen a rubber chicken, except in comic strips. And the backpack had not been out of my possession since the last time I verified its rubber-chicken-less state (while loading my books into it that morning). I never did find out where it came from.
Maybe you put a rubber egg in there and forgot about it? 
I don’t mind finding stuff I did not know I had.
I mind not finding stuff I know I have.
Oooh, look who’s so sure the egg came first! :dubious:
My toolbox spontaneously spawned a second pair of dissecting tweezers. For years I had one pair, and very useful they were, too; but about two weeks ago I looked in the box and there were two pairs. I have no idea where the second pair came from. 
So did you send them a check?
A couple of years ago, my wife discovered some clothing in the car. Clothing that was brand new, and very clearly not anything either of us had bought (some of it was kid’s clothing, if I recall correctly, and we have no kids). A shirt, a windbreaker and some tennis shoes, I think.
It has long since been donated to Goodwill, but…WTF? Did someone break into our car and leave stolen merchandise? Did we somehow manage to pick up someone else’s stuff somewhere without realizing it? A mystery that will never be solved.
I work at home, alone. That’s the only desk in my life.
Cool. Did you (or anyone in your household) ever return a damaged “Othello” CD to a vendor?
And did you have that same desk in 1994?