Evil
(This is real-time blogging from the tax preparer's office, baby.)
I get my taxes done by this guy named Steve. This guy is good. He's so good that he only refers to himself in the third person. Actually, what he does is use a third person nickname. So if I'm like, "Hey Steve, how are you?" He'll be like, "The Guru is doing fine, thank you." And if I'm like, "Hey Steve, you look like you lost weight," he'll be like, "Yes, The Guru's doctor told him to lose some weight, or else!"
So anyway, this operation isn't just one-man show. During tax season, they have an entire staff, so the first person I saw today was some woman, who was supposed to "prep" my taxes. To call her a woman is pretty generous because I am pretty sure that she's part ogre, probably on her dad's side. She has fists the size of boulders and I'm sure if she rapped her knuckles upon my skull, my head would surely cave in. She also has this huge, mother-f'ing sore on the side of her lip. Very sexy. She also speaks with a lazy slur.
At one point, she's (literally) punching in the number from my W2 and various other documents and then she pauses and says, "You're screwed, dude."
Posts
|