Not So Taxing

“Hello, thank you for calling America’s Most Convenient Bank. I’m Lazy Male Worker Who Can’t Find His Ass with Both Hands, how can I help you?”

I explained my dilemma: procrastination + lack of box organization = missing check information (I’m starting to sound like Jesse Jackson here) for my taxes. Oh, and the checks are from a closed account. Can you help me find the number and the amount? All I have are the dates they were written.

And then he let out a big. effing. sigh.

Scan. Scan. He mumbled to himself, sounding a lot like Michel from Gilmore Girls when he complains, er, breathes.

“I don’t see anything,” he said.

“I know I wrote those checks,” I insisted.

“They’re not here,” he said. “I see Starbucks. Chick-fil-a.”

“Those are debit purchases. Are you looking at the checks, you know, with the numbers and routing numbers, etc.?”

“Yes,” he said, as if he wasn’t the idiot I took him for. “They’re not here.”

I hung up with him and called back.

“Hello, I’m the Most Pleasant Woman Ever. How may I help you?”

Situation explained again.

“You know, I would have called, too. Why tear through those boxes? Hold on.”

She took about three minutes to find all three checks, their numbers and the amounts. Interesting, since they weren’t there a few minutes ago. Uh, yeah. While she searched, we chatted.

“Oh, I know how much moving stinks and you can’t find everything,” she said. “Worse than that, my fiance is a nut, from being in the military a long time — if my shoes aren’t by the door, the house is cluttered.”

“I knew people like that,” I said, leaving out the part about how I no longer associated with those, as Ferris Bueller so eloquently put it, who can put a lump of coal where the sun don’t shine and in two weeks they’d have a diamond. “Well, as long as he doesn’t do the white glove thing.”

She sighed. Not sure if that meant he did or not. After she gave me my info, I said, “You saved my life.”

“I’m glad.”

“Take the rest of the night off.”

“I wish. If you’d like to pay me, I’d be more than happy to,” she said.

“I totally would,” I said, “but I have to pay my taxes.”

Somehow, I think paying her would be money better spent.

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