Normally I anxiously await the end of January because I’ll have received all my necessary documents to file my taxes. This tax season was of course the exception because 08 was a crazy financial year for me. I changed jobs and divested my 401k to pay off some staggering college debt. In hindsight probably not the best idea but it felt right at the time.
After turbo taxing my return and seeing I owned Uncle Sam close to 5k I decided to take The Best and Nurse Friend’s advice to seek the services of a professional. It’s pretty ass biting really to have the worst tax bracket single and one no house or child to take credit for and still owe the government. I dialed the Tax Lady and left a pleading message for her to work any particular tax voodoo to lessen the blow.
Tax Lady called back with all the specifications. After sorting some issues with her fax machine, I ended up e-mailing her the items; I left my monetary fate in her capable hands. I worked the rest of the day not comfortable but hopeful that a five thousand dollar cloud would evaporate or at least just create a summer shower as opposed to the thunderous hailstorm I drummed up earlier.
To my pocketbook’s relief Tax Lady transfigured 5k to 1.3k and indicated that there’s a lovely payment plan (I heart installments) that I can sign up for instead of liquidating my entire vacation fund. Hibernating in my apartment a vacation it doesn’t make, I insist on the inability to be contacted by work associates, friends (who aren’t vacationing with me) and family. Pure unfettered disconnection from everyone seems oh so blissful; I know I went off on a tangent but it’s such a delicious scene I must simmer here a little longer…OK moving right along.
Did I mention how I went all no contact this past weekend with everyone and received a hellarious (hellish and hilarious) tongue whipping from The Best Friend. She even got Wander’s panties in a knot.
Later in the day I received another call on my cell from the Tax Lady. First thought, she probably conjured something nice to completely eradicate owing the man altogether, no such luck. Here’s a snipet of the convo as I remember it.
Hey Faith it’s Tax Lady.
Heeeeeeeey (you know when people do nice things for me I generally respond pleasantly) what can I do for you?
This is probably gonna sound a little weird but are you single?
(Initial thought: WTF) Ummmmmmmmm
Oh no I’m not asking for myself see there’s this guy who's around your age I know and he's looking for a good woman and I don’t know there’s just something about you. Believe me I’ve done tons of people’s taxes and spoken to tons of women your age but I don’t know there’s just something about you.
Bbbbbbut you don’t even know me. I could be crazier than a bedbug not to mention ginormous and narsty. I mean I’m single but I do have friends (can’t forget the mucho caliente hombres).
I hope I didn’t offend you but you but you should think about it, he’s really nice.
(Nice is code for gremlin)
How tall is he? (Can’t even believe I am considering this, what the hell is wrong with me, she did score one for the taxes and is only charging me $100, maybe this is the second part of the payoff) I’m pretty tall 5’7ish” not to mention the get him girl heels.
Ha ha you are too funny. He’s probably a little under 6 foot but I will find out and give you a buzz back. These days it’s hard to find a good man you shouldn’t be so caught up in all of that. I remember being your age and being just like that. Now I would date, if I wasn’t married, a guy if he was two feet tall as long as he loved the Lord and had a good head on his shoulders.
Ha…..ha yeah I hear you (this is code for I’m getting uncomfortable with where this is going and want to end the conversation very quickly without being rude and still get the discount on my taxes) let me sleep on it and get back to you tomorrow.
Ok no problem maybe you can come to church with us or go skating with us.
Mmmkay talk to you later.
I guess the tender sounds of desperation work through the phone lines.
7 Pardon My French:
LMAO...It's the recession...
Well, at least she can tell you about his financial status...
5K? You owe the IRS 5K? Just don't pay it and when they start sending you letters to collect simply return them marked across the front in BIG letters, "D-E-C-E-A-S-E-D".
This screas "Proceed with caution!!!" . It almost sounds like someones Mama trying to set him up on a date. And Mama's boys are whimps! Unless you like em whimpy.
@Diva, ha ha you got it either that or because they are up in space.
@Shawn, funny that's one of the first things that came to my mind besides is he tall.
@Me-me well now it's only 1.3k which under the circumstancs isn't great but a helluva lot better than five grand.
@La'Tonya, it so does. Initially I thought she was gonna try to ask me out which under the circumstances might not have been as weird. I'm sure this mama's boy is probably a fugly gremlin. I would bet you but as you can see my finances but I need to keep all the money I can get.
Sounds like you got a 2 for 1. You paid for taxes and got a date. What a deal during these tough times girl!
Absolutely no. Not. Never.
A third base date is like asking for twice the pressure, twice the expectation and twice the guilt if you aren't impressed.
He had better be twice the man to offset all of that...
And if middle aged tax preparers are fetching opportunities for him, I'd say the odds are stacked highly against this.
Time to pull the old.
"I have a tax friend who has some questions about my taxes. Before you finish them, may I have a look at something?"
Professionals hate third base players...
Get her off your game and back onto hers.
Oh, and by the way... You are quite datable.
Post a Comment