The tax man's bollocks...

So, the Australian Taxation Office and I have been chatting. It’s due to the ridiculous, crapacious, what-the-hell forms they have sent out to me. Because I stupidly work hard for money in the day job and pocket money in the writing gig, they ping me each year to pay tax in advance – you know, just in case I want to use that money for foolish things like living expenses. When the official time to lodge tax forms comes about, they generally have to pay that money back because they’re stupid. Yes. Correct. Standard tax agency behavior worldwide. It's designed to prop out dole bludgers and 16 year old baby making machines so they can buy cigarettes and McDonalds.

Anyway, back to the forms. I sent in a complaint – no, god no, you don’t talk to a government tax employee over the phone. That’s like sticking a fork into your thigh – painful, pointless and you wish you never did it. So, I banged out a complaint basically stating that unless they could explain the convoluted forms they sent out in standard Aussie then I would certainly ‘pay-as-you-go’ but on a schedule that suited me and they could stick their percentages and the adding of A5 to B6 subtracting F12 from C11 to get an answer at Box A that was 47.5% of Box B but not exceeding the subtracted amount at F12 unless it comes under Section 7, sub paragraph C(iii).

So I had two tax chicks ring me back about my response. Neither could explain the forms that were sent. On each call, I explained that was okay and I would pay what and when I think and keep the receipts. I can’t do this apparently – no wait – actually I can if I have the right form. I know, you’re thinking ‘get the right form sent to you’. There is no right form and they are 'working on that' and they have taken my ‘feedback down and appreciate’ my comments. Bollocks.

So, at the end of each call they asked, ‘are you happy with how we handled the complaint?’ No. ‘Can we close the complaint?' No. I expect another call shortly because having once foolishly accepted a Government job years ago, I know they cannot close the complaint until I say so. It’s a touchy-feeling thing that feigns that they care. In the interim, as always, I will do what I want and they can work around me. 

H364...

Because the engine spakked out in my almost new car and had to be replaced, I had to go into Queensland Transport and let them know about the new change of engine because it affected my car registration. So I went there. It’s a feral little pace where the great unwashed seem to hang out. I have never smelled so much body odour in my life. It’s also a place of forms. I had been told over the phone to go in and get a 2543 form that dealt with the spakking out of engines. There was no form 2543  in the three long benches of forms . I figured I’d go form-less and wing it when I got to the handing the form over stage. I went over and did the touch screen thing to get a queue number. Problem. None of the touch screen icons dealt with a spakked out motor so I elected for ‘special and sundry'  because I am both.

Ever walked across a crowded room where everyone is holding a form but you aren’t and several of the great unwashed stop you and explain you need a form and you in turn want to explain they need deodorant but you don’t because there are three dozen smelly people to your one perfumed personage and while the odds against you getting out alive don’t bother you it’s having that smelliness rubbed off on you that does. So I sat and waited for H364 to be called amongst a sea of smelly, yet form carrying people. Thirty minutes later I get the call. H364 to counter 12. At the counter the woman looked at me and says ‘You don’t have a form.’ I explain to her that I’m special and sundry and there wasn’t a form for that or a spakked out engine replacement. Then I smiled that helpless woman smile I keep for special times like this. She nodded and said ‘well, you need form 2543.’  Correct.  She had to go into the back room where this special form was. She then watched as I filled out the form. Is that the new engine number? Most probably. Are you sure? I’m 50-50 on it. Is there a plastic seal on the engine? I don’t know. I don’t look at the engine. You’ll have to go see Narelle out the back. Because I don’t know if the engine has a plastic cover? Yes. Take your car to her and she will assess if she can see the new number. So, after I drive around the wrong way twice, I find Narelle. I got tut-tutted due to the driving in the wrong way. Yes, I know, I’m incorrigible but not smelly Narelle so count yourself lucky.

Then the orders came – open the hood, stand over there, can you see this? No, I’m 50 feet away from you. Come here. Look. That’s your engine number. My response? Well, isn’t that nice and shiny. She questioned did I look at the new engine they put in? Narelle, I never looked at the old one until it was gushing oil all over Buchan Street.  Narelle is unsure what to day. I get that a lot.  She looked at the engine. I looked at the engine. She looked at me. I looked at her.  She scribbled something down and handed me a form. Keep this form. It’s important. Righty-o.  Can't have enough H364 moments...

The screw-you-over form…

Yesterday arvo I sat and read this complicated form that got sent to me by my solicitor to do with the purchase of my house. I’ve seen this form before. It’s a complicated government form designed to confuse you because it all deals with extra money they try and screw you out of when you buy a home. No, it doesn’t matter that you’ve worked hard all your life, not depended on taxpayers to support you and you’ve bought the house through said hard work and sacrifice. The government wants to screw you over for their piece of it.

This is the third time I have seen this form. It’s about ‘possible’ concessions you ‘may be’ granted. I have a theory about it. The form is so freaking complication and riddled with double meanings that I believe most people give up and never bother to read it or fill it out or send it back. I believe the government writes it that way so the less people bother to spend time over it, the less concession they have to give and the more money they squeeze out of you. Not me baby. I have filled this form out now three times and each time I have been given the concession. Bugger ‘em. I can out complicate the government.

Amarinda Jones
Penn Halligan
www.amarindajones.com
www.amarindajones.blogspot.com
Be daring...read an Amarinda book

The line forms here....

I went in with a form to a government office to get a rebate. I took a ticket and sat down. There were a lot of other people with tickets. Great. I felt like crap but I was there with my ticket and I wanted the rebate so I sat and waited with the other people clutching white tickets. Anyway, A267 was finally called. Yay! That was me. The other ticket people looked at me with jealousy. All eyes were on me as I, lucky A267, wandered over to the counter with my form. Hey, I waited in line. It was my turn. Although queuing with tickets is deemed civilized, I am damn sure if you dropped your ticket someone else would snatch it up. It’s like when you first go and get the ticket, someone will always try to beat you to the machine. But I always parry with a body swing to left or right and people generally move to avoid my handbag of death that is bouncing on my hip. I could kill a man with that handbag it’s so heavy. When I was in hospital last they weighed me. Okay – not super model slim but okay for me. I weighed my handbag while I was there - 3 kilos or approx 6.6 pounds. Bloody hell. No wonder I have strong shoulders. And no, I could not possible take any of the incredibly useful stuff out of there. What if something terrible happened and I had to re-build a city, make a boat or fix the engine of a plane or file my nails? I would be lost without my handbag.

Anyway….where was I…oh yes, forms…so I went to the counter and handed my form over to the person behind the desk. She looked at me but didn’t. You know that vacant god-I-can-hardly-wait-until-it-is-five-o’clock-and-I-don’t-have-to deal-with-the-feral-public-again stare. It’s a stare I do well and having once worked in a government department you must perfect this stare if you are going to survive. So, Flossie-Lou behind the counter took the form. “It’s wrong.” What? “You need the other part of this form.” Hmmm, now I did not take the other part as it looked exactly like the one I had brought in and I thought the other one was a duplicate. I told her that. She could care less. “Come again with the right form. I’m very sorry.” She wasn’t. I saw the faintest hint of satisfaction in her eyes. I said, “Gee, you don’t sound sorry, Flossie-Lou.” She just gave me the death stare and I smiled back as brightly as I could. Needless to say the other ticket collectors were thrilled I have been dealt with so quickly as they had more chance of their number getting called out. It’s almost like waiting for the lotto balls to drop.

So I went back home and got the duplicate form. I came back and got another number - A392 and waited in the corral with the rest of ticketed ones. Ten minutes later and I was up at the counter. Flossie-Lou wasn’t there. I presented the forms and my card to the woman. I asked why I had to bring both forms in. She pointed to a tiny, weeny little number in the bottom left hand corner. “We need that.” Seriously? Who could read that? It looked like something an ant had written. She also added that they ‘could have also gotten by without it.’ Yes, of course but sending me back home for it was more fun.

Government departments I love ‘em and really I should have known better. They have forms and processes for everything and if an I is not dotted ( I never ever dot I’s) or a T is crossed on the wrong angle then they all grind to a halt and have to form a sub-committee who will look into the angle of T’s being crossed. They would then present those findings to management who would in turn form a committee to elect a spokesmen to present the T slash findings to a parliamentary sub committee who would consider whether to pass it on to a legislative committee to put on the agenda for the 2009 sub planning committee on the changing the rules regarding the formation of T in government language and how those changes would effect the country. Still, I guess it keeps them in a job.

Did I get the rebate? Yes. It did not cover my time or petrol but it did make me appreciate life. How so? That I can still laugh and move on. Where would you be if you could not laugh at the anality (could be a made up word) of it all?

www.amarindajones.com
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/AmarindaJonesNewsletter/
Go ahead: Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?