Last week I decided I would hit the local IRS to see when my amended tax return would be here. I expected a very painful experience, instead I received a decent story I thought I would share with everyone.  After driving around a strip mall for around twenty-five minutes I finally realized that the unmarked building with darkened windows had to be the correct place. I get out of my car and walk in through the front door and immediately I realize this place is no joke.  They have a sign stating no hand guns allowed inside the building. Hmm…..you know I think if I drove around another five minutes or so I could see why someone would consider taking a hand gun inside the building.

So I walk in the front door and there is no one else in line. They have two tellers and there is only one of me. Surely I can figure this out instantly no pain no fuss. I walk up to the teller and state in a very happy tone, “Hello I would like to see when I can expect to see my amended tax return in the mail?” The lady looks at me without missing a beat and says, “Sir please take a number and have a seat.” I look around for a minute trying to figure out what the hell she is talking about. She finally decides to help me out because I obviously have no clue what to do. At one point I actually felt like my good buddy Doug Fabrizio. Something unexpected always happens to him. And it just seems like he has a big giant sign on the front of him stating, please take a dump on my chest. Which I think has actually happened in the form of Bird poo.

Anyway, I grab my number from the number machine and I turn around and look at the pleasant female that just helped me. An uncomfortable silence falls over us for about fifteen seconds or so and I finally decide to take a seat. After a few more seconds she clicks this thing that makes a strange noise above my head. I turn around and see a sign you typically see at the Bureau of Motor Vehicles. The teller calls out number four! I look down at my number, look left no one, look right no one, look straight back at the lady and she repeats NUMBER FOUR…..Sir NUMBER FOUR. I look at her and say, “Well ma’am I am number five so I guess I am after number four.” She gives me that I wish you would rot in hell look and clicks her button and lo and behold NUMBER FIVE!

The story is pretty much over at this point, I find out I am getting my tax return around May 15th. The teller slides me this survey about customer satisfaction. I had no idea the government who taxes the hell out of its citizens would actually care what I had to say about my customer experience at the IRS. I thought it was pretty much a given that I hate the IRS and so does 99% of the country. But, I fill out the survey and slide it back to her. She reaches out to grab it and for some reason I think she is trying to shake my hand. So I shake her hand and she gives me the rot in hell look again, I put my head down and just exit stage left. This is another typical day in my life. At least I have a wife that loves me and a cat that is ridiculous.