Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Tax time: Ready, set, GO!

Not GO as in, let's go but as in my new tax preparer. Allow me to explain.

I've had good luck choosing professionals by their names. When I lived in Boston and had a job but no dental experience, I chose a dentist out of the phone book. Because it seemed the A's had an unfair advantage here, I decided to start with the W's, calling in groups of five until I found a price for teeth cleaning I thought I could afford. I was in luck and able to stop at Wong. Being new in town, I didn't realize until I found the office the day of my appointment that I was in Chinatown. No problem, I thought, although there was nothing in the waiting room I could read. But it turned out to be wonderful. Instead of berating me for insufficient flossing, this dentist raved on about the spectacular condition of my teeth and my marvelous orthodontic work.

So when I was perusing the H & R Block website for a tax preparer near me, I chose someone by their name alone: Mega Go. Who can resist that??? Actually, this is not really her name. I believe she is Indonesian, and her first name is something like Megawara. Her last name starts with Go and is then followed by about twelve syllables, so she shortened it: Mega Go. How practical!

Is she not the cutest thing ever? And even more so in person. She had on a jaunty little baseball cap and fancy jeans. She LOVES doing taxes. Crazy, no? Taxes make my tummy hurt and my head get all fuzzy. Which means paying Mega Go to do them for me is a good idea. 

We decided to retire our old tax person. He made me do too much work (about thirty pages of material I had to fill out). He was mean to us: He would yell at us for not having the right number of exemptions, but when we asked what they right number might be, he would go on and on million miles an hour, jumping from one seemingly irrelevant anecdote to the other, leaving Husband and I looking at each other and asking "Whaaaaaahhhhh??????" 

Mega Go is very clear in her communication. When I handed her the folder into which I had shoveled all our paper, she sorted through, noting "yes" (translation: "I can use that. Thank you.") or "no" (translation: "You have got to be kidding. Of course that is not a deductable expense." or "This is for the wrong tax year.").  She was not pleased with the material Husband had provided, all of which was in envelopes: "No envelopes. They are confusing." When I asked her about exemptions, she draws a picture of the form and marks it according to her instructions. As if we are total idiots. Which is clearly the case. She undoubtedly wonders how such morons can own a house, hold down jobs, and have such a nice investment portfolio. We do too. 

Mega Go is very strict with me. "Ceenthia. Mega. You come to my office right now." And I am in the car. I bring her more papers. I sign. I pay. I am very happy. I ask if Mega will be there next year. "I will always be here." And some how I believe this. 


The Food Librarian said...

I love this post. You always crack me up. I'll have you pick my next doctor if I change my insurance plan, ok?

Purple Flowers said...

What a great story!