The Valley of the Shadow of Internal Revenue

Heigh Ho, Davo the Blog here.

Earlier this week I received a rather confusing note from the State Department of Internal Revenue, stating that I owed over twice the amount of tax that I paid them back in March. Attempting to contact via phone simply didn't work, so, I headed down there in person. Once past all the crazies waiting outside either furiously smoking or reading pulp novels while furiously smoking--they all appeared to be State employees--I sat down with someone on the other side of a grey cube wall and found out that they were missing my Schedule 1 and therefore were disallowing all of my deductions.

So, after a day or so, I scared up my Schedule 1 and headed back in to Government Complex 1 (or was it Government Complex West?) to show them that I did, in fact, have deductions worth considering.

That appeared to be the magic key. The nice lady photocopied my Schedule 1, stamped my own copy, and my penalty, interest, and additional tax liability were summarily erased. It all happened so quickly I began to doubt that I was, in fact, dealing with State government.

Considering that I still had so much time left on my parking meter, I decided to walk across the street and check out the Capitol building, which I hadn't been in (aside from killing time waiting for a bus back in '97 or so) since I was there with the Glee Club. We were, of course, there to sing the State song and moan through the background for God Bless the USA, and did so both in the House as well as the Senate. But that was back in pre-terrorist times. I remember walking in through the big oak doors that led onto the main floor. Nowadays, the public must enter through the west basement door, go through the obligatory security checkpoint, then weave through a warren of cubicle-land offices, pop-machine alcoves, and so forth before you find either the elevator or the basement steps. The general populace now needs to enter, if you will, by the service entrance. This doesn't surprise, but does disappoint.

In other news, my great friend Joe took Royce and me out for dinner and spent an exorbitant amount of money on us. We were at the restaurant for four hours. By the time the creme brulee came around, I was so full I could hardly move. Thanks, Joe, for a wonderful dinner and grand conversation!