Tax Time Offers Plenty Of Questions, Sweating

I am on the phone, sweat forming profusely on my brow, preparing to talk to the most powerful organization in the world.

The Mafia? Wimps, all of them. Joh Gotti? Get real.

The staff of 60 Minutes? Not even close. They might put you on the spot, but you know they can splice you right out of the segment.

The military leaders who directed Desert Storm? C'mon. Give me a break. Even military might can't compare.

No, this is one powerful group. They make strong men wince. Women shake. Accountants busy.

They are ... the IRS.

Ye,s they are the original Bad Boys. Long before the Detroit Pistons began elbowing their way to back-to-back NBA crowns, they were there, imposing on hundreds of thousands of people, many innocent, with the single-scariest word in the English language:

Audit.

This isn't about an audit. But it is about fear. Who do you fear more - Clint Eastwood, Mike Tyson, or the voice that says, in an ever-so-pleasing, yet terrifying, tone, "Hello, Internal Revenue Service. How may I help you?"

How can you help? Hmmm. Maybe by TAXING THE RICH INSTEAD OF THE MIDDLE CLASS!!!

Sorry. Lost my cool.

I am checking on other technical questions, the ones which all of us, at one time or another, must deal with.

For example:

"If the Pentagon thinks a paper clip costs $750, can I send you one in lieu of a check and get a partial refund?"

"If I form my own religion (such as, The Church of the Almighty Paul, Inc.), do i have to pay taxes?"

"Can a goldfish named Boris be considered a deduction? How about a car named Christine?"

"Are monies lost in failed S&Ls considered a business expense, or a stupidity expense?"

The line is busy. I'm not the only one with fears. I'll try again. One ringy-dingy. Two ringy-dingies. Three ringy-dingies.

Connection.

I am sweating and the IRS person hasn't even started to speak. Not that a delay is imminent. I ...

Oh. It's a recorded message. The next available IRS representative will be with me shortly.

Like it really matter.

I'm going over my notes. It's always a good thing to have notes with you when talking to the IRS. Even if the ink I use smears when sweat dribbles from my forehead onto the page.

A live assistant comes on the line. "Hi, this is Monique. How may I help you?"

(Haven't we been down this path before? Hmmm.) Listen, Monique, I got a problem, and I'm hoping you can answer it for me.

"Sure, what is it?"

Well ... uh ...

(I begin to look over my notes, squinting to read words which are now, literally, in a pool of water.

... OK. Here we go. Let's say that I can't pay all of my taxes that I still owe by April 15? What will happen?

(I picture her lips turning into an evil, diabolical smirk. The smile. The villainous laugh. The fangs sticking out of the corners of her mouth. Boy, eating late-night pizzas with sesame seed crusts whole watching Arsenio Hall can cause nightmares like this.)

She is quick to respond, and my fears come true. "Well, first you'll be slapped with a five percent penalty on the existing balance, which will continue to increase over a six-month period until it reaches 200 percent. And there's also an 11 percent interest charge which starts April 16 at 12:01 a.m., and is incurred on a daily basis. In other words, YOU BETTER PAY US NOW, MISTER, WHILE YOU STILL HAVE THE SHIRT ON YOUR BACK! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

"Hope I answered your question. Have a nice day."

Click. Dial tone.

I pull out my calculator (boy, hope the sweat pool hasn't fried the circuits). I begin to calculate. My $100 still owed on April 15 would turn into $547,982.33 by May 1.

Looks like I'll have to send a whole box of paper clips instead.

This article originally appeared in the Ogemaw County Herald.