We owe on our taxes...again....
So we are trying to make a payment plan with our friends at the IRS....again...
But unlike years gone by, we have not gotten a love-letter (from our friends at the IRS) informing us that we owe them money and giving us a chance to pay via several options....
So Man of House and I trudge to our nearest IRS office....located in the nearest Federal Building.....somewhere between the Social Security Office and one of the layers of hell.
When we arrive we are greeted by a sign that we are to remain by the door until we are allowed to venture further into the realm of IRS-land. A man by the name of (seriously folks, this was his name) Jesus (pronounced Hay-SOOOOS) beckons us forward. We explain our situation. He proceeds to inform us of the time-period between sending ones taxes and getting an acknowledgment that they have indeed been received by the IRS. When we point out that we have exceeded that time frame and as yet have received nada, we are given a number and told to wait.
So we sit....and immediately regret we have not brought library books, games, sewing to catch up on, wills to draw up....you know, all those things that you never seem to have time for because you just cannot find several frickin' hours to kill.
While there, we notice that there are to be neither food, drinks, nor cell phone use while sitting in this charming environment of plastic chairs, old carpeting, and eye-catching posters on how the IRS can help Y O U.
Yeah, I have seen signs like this before, but other than the cell phone part, the rest is not really enforced. So, we turn our cell phones to vibrato.
Two gentlemen enter, are greeted by Jesus, given a number, and sit down. One of their cell phones rings and it is answered. Oh, but our man Jesus is on the ball...he informs them that this is not be tolerated...and that the call must continue outside.
Next, a young couple come in. They have an adorable little girl about 6 months old. They are greeted by Jesus, given a number, and told to sit down. The baby gets fussy, and mom pulls out a bottle to feed her. Jesus, ever the man-on-guard, tells them that this is not allowed. So the parents pull the bottle out of the child's mouth with the result that the child gets fussy....and whiny...so they leave....and loose their place in line...so they go home.
Another young couple comes in, with a small child, a baby, and a grandma in tow. The baby has a bottle....and, well you guessed it...they were told to sit outside the doors so they may see when their number is called.
This gets my mind going. What if you are a new-ish mother? You are still breast feeding your baby, but your baby is home now. What if you start leaking? Your schedule will not allow you to take any more time away to visit the IRS (hard to believe, I know...but stay with me on this). According to our dictator, Hay-SOOOS, you need to leave.....and wait outside the doors till your number is called. But the moment you re-enter, you will be violating the "no food or drink" rule....I present all this to Man of House. He looks at me like I have lost my mind....
Finally I come up with a solution....any IRS business could be conducted just inside the doors....as long as the offending booby stays over the line showing where IRS-land begins. Man of House just closes his eyes. I think he is praying. Yeah, we need all the help we can get here.
I don't see a rule forbidding that....so we can remain in our plastic chairs....safe in the knowledge that life as we know & love it may continue...as long as no food, drinks, or cell phones are being used.... bless you Jesus.