Who Do I Think I Am??

Find the bigger idiot...you won't have to look hard.

Good evening...for starters, a big apology to Julie D - PUBLISHED! for dropping the ball on her name last night. Here's the love, girl and congrats on your Flyers tonight. The Sabres looked like the Sabres that started the season, and not the ones who ended it.

(SIDE NOTE): I need to remember to spell-check and re-read this once I've posted it.

So todaaaaaay...I'm gonna skip the traditional "tax day Beatles 'Taxman'" video in honor of this little peach. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1upAw0WLVxs

And maybe you fools can tell me who the bigger idiot is between me, the post office, and the IRS. I'll give you one hint: it's neither of those three options.

Usually, I'm the guy who does my taxes the second my W-2 hits my palm. Been that way for years. Maybe once or twice I've procrastinated about, but that was because there was usually an issue I couldn't get around and couldn't just do them myself. As a single guy with no dependents, how freaking hard is it to just pull out a calculator and bang out some numbers 'til I get a check? Not very.

So I went on turbotax.com (I'm not even gonna promote the link by highlighting it, cuz they scam you, yo), just like I did last year to get my returns on a fancy debit card. Only problem was, I didn't get as much back as I thought I would. No biggie, cuz they took what I owed to the fabulous state of NY and applied it against my federal return. But this year, I wanted a paper check, so I could deposit it in an account (that isn't mine) to repay some back debt. Followed their "GPS system" and all went well, til they asked my some questions about last year's return. HOLD UP, WAIT A MINUTE...

I went looking for last year's info. Oh yeah...I never printed it up. Tried to retrieve it, but I guess I used a different log-in and password, so they couldn't find it. And then I left it to live life. Until today, since I forgot about it on Sunday. Turns out all I had to do was get my electronic PIN from the IRS. No big deal...had they let me know that when I tried to do my taxes in February . So I call the automated system, press my crucial digits, and e-file my federal return for eff-are-double-e free. No worries, y'all.

But state taxes...them's a bitch. Had to go through that damn website again and have them calculate it based on my federal return. Which was quick...but not so free. For $30.95 they'll allow me to print my NY taxes. Ahem, no thank you, and good day, turbotax. I've been doing my taxes by hand since I've been old enough to do grown-up math, so I'll handle this. Please and thank you.

Problem is, it's already nearing 6:00pm, and the fancy, non-local post office closes at 7. So I scurry through the interneticity to e-file the form for an extension, because screw this, I'll find the paper forms, probably somewhere on www.irs.gov (yeah, they get no highlighted love either), and I'll just do it by hand like I always did. Plus it really feels like it goes by quicker for me, than waiting for a computer to load each page and calculate and navigate and constipate and whatnot. Besides, I don't feel like I make enough money to have a "tax professional" get a paycheck off of what I make. These are definitely times where you have to go for self.

So in lieu of $30.95, I break north for the fancy post office. As I feel bad for doing business out of the village of Lancaster, this is a desparate time in which the village is of no assistance to this kid. And as I expected, the line is out the freaking door. Sure, they're postmarking in the vestibule, but that's if you're junk is stamped. "Hey honey, you got any stamps?" She says no. WTF happened to all the stamps?? Woulda been in-and-out, fo sho. But nooooooo. So I ask the guy if there's a machine in there that lets you buy one stamp. He laments that there used to be one, and can't understand why they took it out. Thanks but no thanks, partner. I'll just stand in line...

(SIDE NOTE): I also had my busted DirecTv DVR, prepaid and ready to ship, on my person. Shit gets heavy, ya know?

So as I'm waiting in a line snaking outside the building, I get to wondering...there's these automated kiosks they have set up that you can send things all over...if you have a credit/debit card. Well, I don't. And don't ask why, cuz that's another story for another time. Cash only, playas . I start wondering aloud "If anyone has any stamps, I'll give them a dollar for one". Mainly because I want to get the hell out of there for only needing one stamp (rather than buying a book of 18 that I'll never use, unless the price of stamps gets raised again five times before I'm done with it), and also because I don't want to miss the start of the Sabres game. I swear, next year around this time, I'm setting up a table in front of that grey box they call a Post Office, buying bunches of books of stamps, and selling them outside for a premium. Only so fools like me don't have to walk in and wait in that line.

Speaking of that line, it eventually moved. The guy in front of me was pretty much in the same place...I noticed he'd had both his state and federal returns. And he kept pausing along the counters to fill out "return receipts" or something like that. And of course, he did them wrong. As I become the leader in line, I notice the PO counterperson joking with him...only, he wasn't "joking".

"If you like those overnighted with a return receipt, that'll be $18.20". I nearly spit blood. The PO guy kept going over other mailing options, and then informed this guy he filled out his tags wrong. I exhaled briefly when I finally got called by my second-favorite name, "Next", to the next available PO counterperson. I get halfway there, and some elderly couple jumps the line and nabs my spot.

I turn around, realizing I've been paying all of my attention to the front of the line, and not the back. Apparently, these people had also effed up their situation, and were given a free pass back into customer-satisfactionicity, ahead of me. And it had to take me turning around, wondering aloud, "Did that just happen??" for me to get an answer.

So they finally open up another "place of doing postal business" along the counters and I get my shit processed. I don't get the rigamarole about extra add-ons or anything...gimme my stamp, please...postmark it, and set me on my way, thanks. Total time in the game: One half of an hour.

Oh yeah, by the way, according to turbotax.com, my estimated NY tax return is: $14. Turbotax, NY, The USPS and the IRS can all kiss this bruised ass by their bullshit. I don't wait in lines for nothing. Especially when I'm filing for an extension just so I can get $14. Christ, I probably spent that much in gas just driving to the PO and back. Probably not, but close. Just sayin'.

VITAL STATS:

Sabres lost, but I'm not yet in panic-mode. I should be, and I know what's wrong, but I'm not the coach. And I'm not gonna tell you what I think, cuz I'm probably wrong (maybe for today)...and I'm not the media.

Numbers are trending. Peace be with you and all that, on Passover.

I get a reprieve of sorts tomorrow; I get to sleep in. No appointments, no bullshit, no nothing. I get my sleepy on, and I do it well.

And there is no listening to nothing at all going on. The house is silence when the Sabres lose a playoff game. I need to get away from it all. I need to brood. The analysis kills me. I already know, so no thank you. Two fingers = peace, and the thumb over = out. Like me for tonight. Gonna snuggle up temptingly and see what happens. Y'all figure it out and act accordingly. GOODNIGHT NOW!