Today I took a trip to the IRS in downtown Portland in order to get information about my Annual Gross Income for 2007 to complete my 2008 tax returns. You have to go through a metal detector, but don't worry, I was allowed to keep my shoes on.
There's a sticker of Obama on my laptop, and, just like when I go through security at the airport, I put my computer in a separate container. A man behind me noticed the sticker.
The guy said: "You got a picture of the anointed one there."
Yup. Hallelujah.
I wait in line at the center, looking around at the building. It's sterile and stale. I swear, federal buildings need some serious feng shui. The cubicles were completely enclosed, just rows and rows of gray little boxes with numbers on them, probably stuffed with government workers auditing citizens one person at a time.
And get this. When I get my AGI for 2007, the agent looks at my information and says: "I don't believe."
He didn't believe I made as little money as I did that year. Thank God the bastard wasn't doing my taxes.
In the end, my tax return got approved and I'll be getting my refund and the end of the month. I wish I could say something like, then I lived happily ever after. But that would be presumptive of me.
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