The cosmos rises for work, still in a dream. It’s the dead center of spring. The weather is shifty — forecasts seem caught off-guard. Due to sporadic outbursts, a neighbor named Benny leaves his front yard flagpole cautiously defenseless. It’s also the tollgate month for those that pay.
This family-run accounting business continues to serve from an old-town colonial three-story the firm’s namesake converted into a boarding house of bookkeepers in the eighties. On the downstairs lobby wall, a framed photo of the retired founder with a golf club is inscribed “Congratulations on the retirement of tax code king Deduction Don!” It’s signed by a local car dealership family, “The Tesoros." Wait for your yearly appointment sitting next to a coffee table stocked with golf magazines & a small wicker basket of promotional bottle openers. Take two.
Your accountant assigned from the stable is Pat. He's stationed in a third-floor attic room. On the wall, framed certifications include a diploma from the College of War in Strategic Studies. He advanced through the military police, then was discharged to Deduction Don. Over the course of the five tax seasons with him, Pat’s well-familiar with your business & personal info & occasionally releases some of his own. After a discussion of artistic deductions like cable subscriptions, written off as professional research, Pat describes a documentary that triggered his paranormal obsession with a demonologist who mysteriously died while investigating a haunted doll. Then, he says he's afraid he has bad news: your federal tax bill exactly matches the amount of an allowed expense purchased with a state arts grant that’s also granted directly back to the state in state tax. “Might get a flag. Not worth the fight.” Sign the return & go downstairs to pay up. Nellie is the office manager. Every year, she’s collected your payment from an office window in the lobby. She’s treasurer-at-large of the Good Shepherd Patriot Sisters Missionary Confederation on top of being a licensed notary. Stand at the window with your credit card. Nellie is at her desk, staring at a computer screen. The other clerk takes your card, then turns & asks Nellie for your file. Nellie doesn’t look up & says “Never heard of ‘em.” The clerk looks at you. You look over at Nellie. The clerk hands back the card. The charge goes through.
Return home without a receipt, but two bottle openers. Benny is in the middle of the street yelling at no one.
Fuckin Bennie..what a character. Lol