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A Taxing Conversation, Part 2

, , , , | Right | June 24, 2013

Wife: “Can we try filing separately?”

Me: “You can, but it’s not usually the best idea. You’ll disqualify yourselves from some of the biggest credits. I’ll run it through both scenarios, and see what happens. Who should have the kids on their file?”

Husband: “Put them on hers.”

(I run the return both ways. It takes about fifteen or twenty minutes, since they each have multiple jobs.)

Me: “Okay, taken jointly, you’re getting $[amount]. Separately you, sir, need to pay $[amount] and you, ma’am get $[amount] back.”

Wife: “Hmm. Put the kids on his return.”

Me: “Okay.”

(10 minutes later…)

Me: “Now, he has to pay less, and you get back less. Jointly is still the better option.”

Wife: “How about if he has one kid, and I have two kids?”

Me: “Okay.”

(Five minutes pass.)

Me: “Jointly is still better.”

Wife: “Okay, reverse it please. Him with two kids, and me with one.”

Me: “Okay.”

(Five minutes pass.)

Me: “Jointly is still better. But this other person you’ve talked about…”

Husband: “Our niece?”

Me: “Right, let me check some info out with you; she might qualify as another dependent.”

(10 minutes of interviews, and calling for info later…)

Me: “Yep. She qualifies as another dependent, and now you’re joint refund would look like—”

(The program glitches in a funny way. I have never seen this before.)

Me: “Hmm, let me call over the manager real quick.”

Manager: “What seems to be the problem?”

Me: “The file glitched. I’ve been running different scenarios for them, and the husband’s file is giving me weird data and won’t let me delete it.”

Manager: “Can you restart a file with the wife as lead tax payer?”

Me: “I can do that, but they haven’t decided if they’re going to file joint or separate. I was just trying to get the results of the latest scenario, when it glitched.”

Manager: “Re-enter for the wife, and I’ll try to fix this file in case they want to file that way.”

Me: “All right.”

(Five minutes later…)

Me: “Okay, your joint refund is now even higher.”

Wife: “Can you try it separately, with me having three dependents, and my husband’s one?”

Husband: *groans*

(The next day…)

Coworker: “Why is there a biohazard sticker on this return file?”


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A Badly Drawn Request

, , , , , | Right | May 28, 2013

(I work at a theme park as a caricature artist.)

Customer: “Hey, if I get one of these done can you make me skinny?”

Me: “Well, it’s a caricature, so you can have an exaggerated bikini body or something if you like?”

Customer: “Oh, good! Can you make my teeth look better, too?”

(I can see the customer has a gap in her teeth.)

Me: “Well, if you’re sensitive about something like that you could always give me a closed mouth smile.”

Customer: “And could you make me blonde? And maybe a smaller nose?”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m not sure you’d want a picture if I altered it that much.”

Customer: “Why not?”

Me: “Because… it wouldn’t look like you!”

Her Son Is The Eggs-pert

, , , | Right | May 7, 2013

(An elderly lady comes in, whom we all call “Egg Lady.” She always complains about how we bag her eggs. We used to bag them in a single bag for her. As that’s wasteful, we tried putting bread on top of the eggs, but she complained that the bread cracks the eggs. It’s gotten bad enough that the manager now makes a point of ringing her up, bagging her stuff, and carrying her bags outside. She comes in the day after Thanksgiving to buy ten cartons of eggs and comes to my register.)

Me: “Oh, Mrs. [Egg Lady], let me call the manager.”

(I call him over to register, and then make some small talk.)

Me: “How was your Thanksgiving?”

Egg Lady: “It was nice this time. My family came in, and my son bought me four cartons of eggs. I don’t know how he does it, but he must buy some of those government eggs.”

Me: “Government eggs?”

(The manager has come over and is checking her out. I move to his register to log on and check out others. The manager takes care to place the cartons one on top of the other but is called off by another associate. Egg Lady notices I have no customers.)

Egg Lady: “I don’t have time to wait. My son and his family are expecting breakfast. You can help me load these in the car.”

Me: “Yes, ma’am.”

(I turn off my light and go to help her.)

Egg Lady: “Yep, my son told me how he got these eggs from the government. They are genetically mutating chickens to make stronger eggshells now with all these vitamins inside of them. The only problem is that sometimes the eggs are coming out green.”

(I just smile and nod as I start to put the egg cartons in her trunk with care.)

Me: “It’s interesting what they’ll come out with nowadays.”

Egg Lady: “I might buy some of those government eggs next time. I hear you can smash them against the wall and they won’t break.”

Me: “I wonder how you crack them open, then.”

(She suddenly glares at me and yanks the last bag out of my hand.)

Egg Lady: “How dare you laugh at me?! I’m going to report you to your manager! My son told me that he had government eggs, and you’re going to mock me. If I were your mother, I’d spank your behind!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am; I wasn’t meaning to laugh at you. I was just thinking out loud.”

Egg Lady: “I’m going to tell my son about you, so he can prove to you that there are government eggs.”

(She throws the last carton in and slams the trunk. This knocks over a small crate she has in there. I hear the crunch of it hitting the eggs. The manager comes outside just as she’s peeling off in a huff.)

Manager: “She’s coming back tomorrow, isn’t she?”

Me: “Yep. I’m calling in sick tomorrow so I don’t have to watch her crack all of our eggs to find the government ones.”


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This Boss Needs Work

, , , | Working | April 30, 2013

(I’ve submitted my notice on December 1 that my last day will be December 21st. On the 21st, I come by to turn in my uniform and collect my paycheck. As I do so, I happen to glance at the work schedule for the next week.)

Me: “Hey, [Boss], why do you have me scheduled to work Christmas Eve? And Christmas Day? And…” *flips page* “…New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day?!”

Boss: “You didn’t ask off!”

Me: “You’re right, I didn’t. Because I quit.”

Boss: “Hey, if you don’t want to work a holiday, you have to submit your off-time requests EARLY. You KNOW this.”

Me: “No I don’t… because I don’t work here anymore.”

Boss: “Look, if you don’t want to work your shifts, you need to find someone to cover for you!”

Me: “Or what? You’ll fire me?”

Boss: “You bet your butt!”

Me: “I DO NOT WORK HERE ANYMORE!”

Boss: “Find someone to cover your shifts if you want to skip work on a holiday. Good luck!”

(I turn to a customer who has been listening.)

Me: “Excuse me, sir, will you cover my shift on Christmas Eve?”

Boss: “He doesn’t work here!”

Me: “NEITHER DO I!”

(I then left. She called me, furious, each and every day I was supposed to work, and she ended up forcing one of her assistant managers to work the store alone on New Year’s Eve, promising I would be there. The assistant manager called me in tears and begged me to come in. That three hours of work screwed up my taxes for two years because the store manager reported it wrong.)


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Holding The Line Against Bad Customers

, , , , | Right | February 18, 2013

(There are usually four to six employees behind the counter at the cell phone store, but today there is only one. She appears to be new and flustered, but is doing very well getting to everyone. I have been waiting for about 20 minutes before a woman in her late 20s and dressed in aerobics gear comes in. She immediately turns to a phone sales rep.)

Aerobics Woman: “Do I really needed to wait in the line?”

Employee: “I only really sell new phones, so I am afraid you will have to.”

Aerobics Woman: “OH. MY. GOD.”

(Five minutes go by, and the next customer is up. I’m about fourth in line now, and [Aerobics Woman] is sixth. She is grumbling and muttering things under her breath.)

Aerobics Woman: *shouting* “What is taking so long?! I don’t understand why I have to wait in this line.”

(Finally, it’s my turn. I’m up at the counter, and give the poor overwhelmed employee a warm smile.)

Me: “I’m so sorry you have to put up with this.”

(Relieved, the employee lets out a big sigh and her shoulders relax.)

Employee: “No, I’m sorry that it has been taking so long.”

Me: “No, it’s okay. I understa—”

Aerobics Woman: “Why does it have to take so long!”

(I decide I’ve been patient enough with [Aerobics Woman] and snap back.)

Me: “Are you five f***ing years old?!”

(As soon as I say this, everything in the store grinds to a halt. [Aerobics Woman] is looking at me wide-eyed, as I in turn am now giving her the ugliest glare I’ve ever managed.)

Me: “Are you seriously under the impression that your constant moaning is going to make anything you’re trying to do happen any faster? Do you have any idea how f***ing ridiculous you look right now? What the h*** is so d*** important that you feel that you have to b**** every five minutes for all to hear?”

Aerobics Woman: “I was on the phone to customer service, and they told me that in order to change my account password I needed to come into a store and show proof of ID!I got a new phone because I dropped the old one, and they told me I couldn’t switch it without my password, and I forgot it!”

Me: “Well, of course you’d have to bloody come in! I bet you have credit card info, address info, social security info, and all the rest on your bloody account. What if I called Customer Service, put on a lovely voice, and said I was you? What if I stole your phone, called the phone company, and said to them, ‘could you tell me what social security number you have for me, I want to make sure it’s the right one’? You should be thanking this poor woman here, all alone, having to put up with your childish whining, and trying to keep you from getting robbed. Now, shut up, and just wait your turn.”

(I turn back to the employee, and wink. On the way out of the store, another employee intercepts me on the way out.)

Other Employee: “I was wondering if I could talk to you. Customer Service is our number one priority here, and policy prevents us from being able to defend ourselves in a situation like that. On behalf of everyone here, I wanted to see if I could have your name, and give you next month’s service for free.”