Story 628: `Tis the Season for Taxes!

             (On the phone)

Sibling 1: Hey, whatcha up to on this fine summer’s day?

Sibling 2: It’s still March.

Sibling 1: I said what I said: it’s 80 degrees outside, and I’m wearing shorts and a tank top with the A/C cranked up inside.

Sibling 2: Can’t argue with that.  Whelp, I’m not dressed for the beach, and instead I’m celebrating one of the Rites of Spring in getting all my tax stuff together.

Sibling 1: Oh.  What for?

Sibling 2: For… taxes.

Sibling 1: Why, you owe any?

Sibling 2: Hopefully not this year, but I gotta do them soon since I left it a little late, or else I’ll really owe something.

Sibling 1: What’s the point? 

Sibling 2: “What’s the point?”???

Sibling 1: Yeah, why do double-work?  They’re already taken out of your paychecks for you anyway, right?

Sibling 2: …Are you telling me that you’ve never had your taxes done?!

Sibling 1: Sure I have.

Sibling 2: Oh thank –

Sibling 1: Every paycheck, like I just said.

Sibling 2: ….

Sibling 1: So I don’t get why you’re making more work for yourself when it’s already been taken care of by Payroll.

Sibling 2: I don’t believe what I’m hearing right now.  Are you saying, that in your decades of working life on this planet, you haven’t once filed a tax return?!

Sibling 1: Ooh, they return all the taxes to us?  Wish I’d known about that from the beginning; thanks a lot.

Sibling 2: No, you doofus, you have to report your income to the state and federal government every year and make sure they didn’t over- or under-withhold!

Sibling 1: And why would I do that?  Shouldn’t that be something Payroll should have gotten right the first time?

Sibling 2: Well, ideally, but tax and interest rates constantly change, and there’s also the income from the interest on your bank account, and taxes you paid on loans and other expenses, and the extra income from your never-ending side hustles that never get anywhere, and that one time you actually won the lottery –

Sibling 1: Oh yeah, that was sweet; we had a great family vacation that year, didn’t we?

Sibling 2: Of course, and I’ll treasure the memory always, but ALL OF THAT IS REPORTABLE!

Sibling 1: Jeez, Principal, you make it sound like I’m gonna get detention.

Sibling 2: You’re gonna get the extreme version of that instead!  What about all those times Mom and Dad brought you to their account when you had those part-time jobs in high school?!

Sibling 1: Oh, those?  I thought that was because I was a minor.

Sibling 2: No, numbskull!  Well, partially, but once you graduated adolescence you were supposed to do those on your own!  Every year!  Have you never heard of April 15?!

Sibling 1: Of course I have: the Ides of April, right?

Sibling 2: I wish I could reach through the phone and smack you upside the head right now.

Sibling 1: Rude.

Sibling 2: So in all those years, did you never wonder why you were getting W2 forms from work?!

Sibling 1: Actually yeah, I always did kind of wonder since they don’t apply to me: I’m not a World War 2 veteran, and that was ages ago anyway.

Sibling 2: That’s WW2!

Sibling 1: Oh, right.  Mystery solved, then.

Sibling 2: What about 1040 forms, 1099, 1095, anything?!

Sibling 1: I figured they were all just informational, provided as a courtesy.  Kind of like when you donate to an organization and they send you a summary at the end of the year?  I always wondered how I could claim it on my taxes like they all say I can, since I don’t think work would handle something like that.

Sibling 2: This!  This is how you claim it!  You file your tax return and you itemize your deductions so the donations can count toward your refund!

Sibling 1: …Yeah, that’s a lot of words that mean nothing to me, sorry.

Sibling 2: I think I’m losing my mind right now; so since you clearly haven’t filed anything since you left the nest, in all these years have you never gotten any letters saying you need to pay penalties for all the many, many returns you missed?!

Sibling 1: Well if I did, I probably threw them out like the scams they are: everyone knows that a legitimate organization will never send a letter in the mail and will call you instead.

Sibling 2: The phone call’s the scam – the letter’s the real thing!  Usually.

Sibling 1: Oh.  Then, oops.

Sibling 2: Yeah, “oops”: you probably owe a million dollars in penalties by now, and at least five years in jail!

Sibling 1: No, I mean “oops” in that I thought the call about my vehicle’s warranty was the real thing – guess I gotta cancel all my credit cards now.

Sibling 2: They’ve probably been cleaned out for you already.  Listen, I don’t care what you’re doing today, I’m coming over and going through your stuff and your garbage and try to salvage what we can for this year, then make an appointment with Mom and Dad’s accountant to help straighten out this awful mess, and then throw yourself on the mercy of the powers-that-be and hope that they realize you’re too much of a dolt to waste their time prosecuting you once they’ve gotten their money.

Sibling 1: So rude.  And I fail to understand how it’s their money – I’m the one who earned it!

Sibling 2: You like schools?

Sibling 1: Not particularly, but I dealt with them as a necessary evil.

Sibling 2: You like fire departments?

Sibling 1: Um, sure…?

Sibling 2: Libraries?  Parks?  Law enforcement?  Recycling?  Emergency medical – ?

Sibling 1: OK, OK, why are you changing the subject?

Sibling 2: They’re paid for by taxes!

Sibling 1: Really?  I always thought they were financed by extremely rich people wanting the tax write-off.  Ohhh, I get that now, too.

Sibling 2: Argh!

Sibling 1: Huh.  So that means I’m the boss of all of them, right?  Oh, so that’s why those weirdos say “My taxes pay your salary!” 

Sibling 2: Unfortunately, yes.

Sibling 1: I think I’ll start using that line now, too.

Sibling 2: Please don’t.

Sibling 1: Just once?

Sibling 2: Absolutely not.

Sibling 1: Fine.  So, this was fun: I’m going to doze off in my makeshift cabana now.

Sibling 2: Uh-uh, I’m coming over now.

Sibling 1: Ugh, If you insist.

Sibling 2: Since I’m obligated to at least try to keep you out of prison – yes, I do insist.

Sibling 1: All right, I’ll be lounging in the living room when you get here.  You know, this really is a whole lot of fuss for something that should be completely automated at this point in our digital existence. 

Sibling 2: I’d almost agree with you, but we’ve gone so long with this method that the process of converting to any alternative system is just too exhausting to even think about now.

Story 627: Weather Whiplash

 SATURDAY 

“Morn-ning!”

“Good morning!  I hate to say, but you look awfully dreadful today.”

“Right you are: spent a solid hour digging the old bucket of bolts out from under the ‘bomb cyclone’ or ‘polar vortex’ or ‘thunder snow’ or whatever it is the youth are calling it these days, only to have it all plowed back in by the necessary street clearers immediately afterward and had to start the whole bloomin’ process all over again.”

“Hm.  Blast.”

“Indeed.  You’re just lucky you no longer drive and everyone has to come to you instead, yeah?”

“Well, usually, not being able to drive anymore is quite a hindrance, but I must say on days when there are 15 feet of snow outside and temperatures are in the negative digits, not going anywhere does have its perks.”

“Quite.  Tea?”

“Already had mine, so help yourself.”

“Thanks, but I’ll save it for the return journey; as you can see out the window, those innocent-looking flurries are unceasing in their descent from the heavens, and an additional six feet are predicted by tonight.”

“Oh my.  You’re welcome to stay the night, you know.”

“I packed my bag for just such an occasion.”

“Good thinking.” 

SUNDAY 

“Morn-ning!”

“Good morning!  Ready to do battle once more in rescuing your bucket of bolts from the clutches of the frozen water smothering it?”

“I would be, if it wasn’t all gone.”

“Sorry?”

“Take a look.”

“…I don’t understand; I can see out the window.”

“Exactly.  The frozen water transformed into water-water overnight and washed everything away.”

“But how is that possible?  We were surrounded by literal walls of snow – that all should take weeks to go away, even with the rain!  And yet I can see the lawn again for the first time in a month!”

“I suppose it helps that the temperature shot up by 50°F overnight as well.”

“Ah.  It did feel a bit stuffy in here when I woke this morning.”

“I took the liberty of turning down the thermostat when I got up.”

“Good move.  So, off you go then, I suppose; into the downpour instead of the blizzard.”

“Seems like it.  You might want to call a plumber at some point, though – the sump pump’s been running all night so the crawl space is probably flooded.”

“I’m sure I won’t be the only one calling.” 

MONDAY 

            “Morn-ning!”

“Oh, good morning!  So nice of you to call, but aren’t you stopping by later?”

“Actually, I’m calling to let you know that I have to cancel for today, sorry.”

“Oh, that’s all right, I can manage – is everything OK?”

“Yes, everything’s fine: the thing is… I decided to spend the day at the beach.”

“Oh.  As in, the beach?”

“Yes, well, we only have the one in this area, and I’m at it.”

“My, that sounds lovely, but I do have to ask: why?”

“Oh, you know, really, why not?”

“I mean, everyone’s free to do as they please if they’re not hurting anyone or themselves, but I can’t help but notice that we’re physically located in the upper region of the northern hemisphere, and we’re temporally located in the middle of March.”

“Yes?”

“Not exactly beach weather, I should think.”

“Have you stuck your head out the window yet today, or checked the news at all?”

“No, sadly: still trying to wrangle an available plumber and it’s been quite draining.”

“Ah, well, then you may not have noticed that summer arrived while you weren’t looking.”

“Sorry?”

“Temperature rocketed to 90°F today.”

“You’re having a laugh.”

“Take a look outside if you don’t believe me.”

“I certainly will…. Oh dear.”

“What is it?”

“The window sill is melting somewhat.”

“That’s rough – you might need a home repair service when all this is done, too.”

“Well, that’s dashed inconvenient – I’m sweating already, and I can only imagine the entire house is warping as we speak.”

“Rotten luck, that [Slurp].”

“Is that a frozen lemonade I hear you slurping out there?”

“You know me too well.  I’d’ve invited you to come along, you know, but I remembered you can’t stand the beach.”

“Gracious no, once you get anywhere near it, that sand is with you forever.  Oh, perfect timing, the ice cream truck is here – yoo-hoo!  Driver!  One small cone with strawberry, please!”

“I’ll leave you to it and come by tomorrow, yeah?”

“Cheers – enjoy the boiling waves!” 

TUESDAY 

“Morn-ning!  Not at the beach today, so I should get there at my usual time!”

“Actually, that’s why I’m calling – you perhaps want to skip again today.”

“That’s all right: the sunburn’s minimal, I’ll be fine!”

“Lovely, but it’s probably not a good idea for anyone to be out on the roads around here today.”

“Oh?  Why not?”

“Well, I did stick my head out the window this morning, and I did check the news, and it seems that this neighborhood is under a tornado warning.”

“Oh dear, really?  And just your neighborhood, is it?”

“Apparently the conditions here and nowhere else are ‘just right’, they said.”

“My word.  Is that why I’m hearing an emergency siren in the distance over the phone?”

“Yes, and seeing how the winds ae blowing everything around and I can see a funnel touching down about five houses away, it’s probably best that I nip down to the crawl space for half a tick.”

“Quite right.”

WEDNESDAY 

“Morn-ning!  You and the neighborhood still in one piece after the twister?”

“Oh good morning; quite all right, thank you – the mailbox was a little stirred up, but fortunately the cyclone continued down the middle of the street and disintegrated after making its point, so all’s well that ends well, and all that.”’

“Jolly good.  So, I’ll come over this morning as per usual then, shall I?”

“If you like, but I don’t mind if you’d prefer dashing off to the beach again.”

“Thanks, but not likely, seeing as it’s 28°F out.”

“Yes, but you’ve gotten me into checking the weather all the time now, and the reliably accurate prediction is that it’ll hit 100°F by noon.”

“Oh.  Today?”

“Indeed.  Why, in the single minute we’ve been talking, the thermometer has jumped to 45°F.”

“…So it has.  Well, I’m still coming over – maybe pass on the tea, though.”

“I fail to grasp the connection.” 

THURSDAY 

“Morn-ning!”

“Good morning!  After you’re all settled, I’ll need your help on a project today.”

“Ooh, sounds fun, what is it?”

“Taping all the windows before the hurricane hits.”

“So it’s definite that it’s going to hit this area?”

“As of this moment; since you insisted on still coming over today, I hope you brought your overnight bag again, seeing as the storm drains are expected to flood and the winds are expected to knock down everything.”

“I didn’t, but I suppose I can always row home, right?”

“I’d rather you didn’t.” 

FRIDAY 

“Morn-ning!”

“Good morning!  All safe and snug at home, then?”

“Indeed I am!  Thank goodness the hurricane turned out to be only a mild torrential downpour instead – that, I can handle.”

“Yes, we’re all grateful, and I hope you’re not planning to come over today, either.”

“Well, just have to dig out the old bucket of bolts from the eight feet of snow we got overnight, so it might take me a bit longer than usual but other than that, I’ll be there.”

“Please don’t: I heard that the roads are a giant wall of mush right now, and if you wait it’ll all have melted away again when it hits 105°F tomorrow.”

“Right you are then, thanks.  Funny way to observe the first day of spring, isn’t it?”

“Quite.”

Story 626: I Forgot to Spring Ahead This Year

            (On a Sunday morning, Friend 1 groggily awakens to the cell phone vibrating on the nearby lamp table)

Friend 1: (Sloppily grabbing the phone and answering it) Muh-yeh-loh?

Friend 2: (On the phone, standing outside a busy restaurant) So, are you cancelling for today?

Friend 1: Hm-day?

Friend 2: We were supposed to meet for brunch at 10:30 this morning.

Friend 1: Muh-yeh?

Friend 2: Yes.

Friend 1: Wha – (Rubs eyes and clears throat) What time is it?

Friend 2: 10:40.

Friend 1: (Shifts to look at the alarm clock on the lamp table, then shifts back to the pillow) Isn’t.  It’s 9:40.  Still earlier than I wake up on a day off, I’ll have you know.

Friend 2: Are you looking at your alarm clock or at your cell phone clock?

Friend 1: Alarm.  Which is set to go off in five minutes, so that’s five minutes of sleep I’ll never get back, I thank you.

Friend 2: You should thank me: check your cell phone clock.

Friend 1: (Sighs and leans back while holding out the cell phone to check the time, staring at it for several seconds without blinking before bringing it back to speak) Must be some glitch – how’d you know my phone’s broken?

Friend 2: It’s not, you dope: the clocks turned ahead an hour at 2 a.m.!

Friend 1: 2 a.m. … this morning?

Friend 2: Yes!

Friend 1: Why?

Friend 2: Because it’s supposed to save daylight or something!

Friend 1: No, I mean, why today?  Spring’s not until the 20^th.

Friend 2: I don’t know, maybe it’s to celebrate International Women’s Day here with an hour less of sleep but an hour more of sunshine!  Bottom line: forget about brunch since you’re not even awake yet, and we’ll figure out when to go another time.

Friend 1: (Starts stumbling out of bed) Now, hold on – we missed brunch, but we can move straight into lunch at this point, right?

Friend 2: No, you missed brunch.  I’m going in since I have a reservation and I’m not being cheated out of my brioche French toast that I’ve been looking forward to all week, so – bye.  (Ends the call and goes into the restaurant to have brunch)

(Friend 1 falls back into bed, dropping the phone onto the floor; the alarm clock goes off; Friend 1 reaches back and unplugs it from the wall, making it also drop onto the floor)

Friend 1: Want my hour back zzzzzzzzz….

Story 625: How to Get Out of Snow Removal: Lesson 2

             “Ugh, another snowstorm?!  Where do they all come from?!”

“Not this again.”

“Sorry, but really, I just can’t take another once-a-decade storm for the eighth go-round this month – how many times do I have to dig out my car and the same plowed-in mess at the end of the driveway before enough is enough, hm?!”

“…Every time?”

“That goes without saying, but I say ‘No more!’  This time, they’re not catching me sleeping during a blizzard as the frozen mess piles up over our heads, uh-uh!”

“So, what, are you gonna go out and shovel every few hours overnight?”

“HA!”

“Yeah, don’t know why I asked – even I wouldn’t do that.”

“No, this time I’ve come up with a genius plan.”

“I bet you have.  All right, let’s hear it.”

“OK, you know the saying: ‘A rolling stone gathers no moss’?”

“I’m familiar.”

“Well, I’ve made the next logical leap in logic and determined that a moving car gathers no snow.”

“So…?”

“So, as long as my car is in constant motion during the storm, no snow will be able to pile up on it!”

“….”

“Isn’t that the most brilliant thing you’ve ever heard?”

“Not exactly.  Are you saying that you plan to drive throughout the entire blizzard?”

“You betcha!  I’m amazed no one else has thought of this earlier.”

“That’s because we’ll be in a State of Emergency and no cars are allowed on the road!  Except essential workers, which you most definitely are not!”

“Ah, but there is one, significant, ginormous exception.”

“I’m afraid to ask what it is.”

“The Turnpike’s exempt.”

“…What?!”

“If I’m already on it when the blizzard starts, then they can’t kick me off!”

“…What?!”

“Speed limit’s usually around 55-65 miles per hour; with the snow I might have to drop down to around 35, but either way that should be fast enough to keep anything from actually accumulating on me.  It.  You know: the thing I’d normally have to clean and scrape off.”

“….”

“Brilliant, huh?”

“Ignoring the mind-bogglingessness of it all this for the moment – the Turnpike is only about two hours from start to finish if you stay in-state.”

“Uh-huh?”

“Blizzard’s expected to last around 20 hours.”

“Uh-huh?”

“So you gonna keep going from state-to-state until it’s over?”

“Nah, I’m not sure the other states’ll want me: I’ll just start at the north and then find a cut-through in the south right before the river and then come back up the other way.”’

“Four times?”

“…Yes, that sounds about right, unless I need to go even slower.  Give or take a few times, then.”

“You’re gonna get stuck in the snow before you finish the first round, you know.”

“Not if I drive fast enough!”

“That’s not how – also, you’re probably gonna run out of gas, and no station will be open.”

“No worries; I’ll have extra cans with me to fill up myself!”

“Aha!  You’ll have to stop do it!”

“Please: I can fill up my tank in less than a minute, no problem; the machines take forever, but I have a system”

“I still think this is a bonkers plan.”

“You’re just jealous you didn’t think of it first!  I’ll toast a water bottle to you while I’m on the road, practically snow-free, as you continue the endless struggle of shoveling powder and ice to free your trapped vehicle.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.  And how’re you supposed to get back into your snowed-in driveway after all this, anyway?”

“At that point, I can burst through it with the sheer strength of my conviction.”

“I’m sure you will.”

“Ooh!  Just to hedge my bets, you wouldn’t happen to have a spare snow plow that I could attach to my front fender so everyone’ll think I’m on the way to a job and leave me alone?... Hello?” 

            *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          * 

“Hi there.”

“So, I have to know: how did your drive-througout-the-blizzard-so-you-don’t-have-to-dig-out-your-car experiment go?”

“Had a moderate-speed chase with the state troopers until they cut me off and tossed me into the nearest cell until the blizzard ended – didn’t even make it to the second exit.”

“Ah.”

“Apparently, in my case they chose to ignore the memo regarding the Turnpike exemption: though the howling winds I calmly argued my iron-clad position on the matter, but in the end they completely overwhelmed me with their safety protocols and protection of civilians and whatever.”

“Mm.”

“Also gave me about 15 tickets and a summons to the county court where they stopped me and not the county court where I live, so there goes that Tuesday when I have to show up.”

“Mm-hm.”

“Community service also was threatened, but I’ll call their bluff on that when I literally have my day in court.”

“Mm-hm.”

“The only reason they didn’t impound my car was it would’ve been too much of a hassle to get it to the lot in the middle of that mess, so they volleyed another fine my way instead out of spite.”

“Mm-hm.  I’m glad no one got hurt, but I’m also trying not to laugh here.”

“So I gathered.  Well, I’m pleased to be a source of amusement for you in these dreary days of lingering winter, but in the end, against all odds and in spite of everyone’s attempts, I still triumphed.”

“How, exactly?  You were in jail!”

“Yes, that’s the ultimate irony of the situation: in order to get rid of me and get their own vehicles back on the road, they had to clean off my car.”