Shortly after I arrived for work, yesterday, one of our irregular innanet patrons phoned to alert me that he wouldn't be coming in at all because he had to drive to, oddly enough, my future home town of Borderland. It seems that the Borderland Post Office was going to remain open until midnight for the convenience of late tax-filers, whereas Tri-Metro's PO was planning to give everyone the finger and shut down at the crack of 4:30. The patron noted that he was going to need every last second he could squeeze out of the day, so he was heading out. He then offered to give me the Borderland PO's phone number as well, in case any other patrons needed it. I took it and thanked him for his news update and hung up.
"Big Hairy Guy just called," I said to Mrs. B. (This is not a blog nick-name but is actually how we have referred to him in-house for pretty much the whole time we've known him, for the man is indeed large and hairy, much liken unto a lumberjack.) I then told her of Big Hairy's report that Borderland's PO was open late.
"Oh, good," she said. "He was in earlier and said he was trying to find one that would stay open late. The closest he'd found was Charleston." Then, after a bit of thought, Mrs. B added, "You know, if he'd spend as much time on his taxes as he has on finding a post office, he could have them done and turn them in here."
My moms-in-law did our Federal taxes for us, (Thanks muchly, Ma!), which are pretty brutal this year but it's our own fault. We were paying estimated taxes every quarter for the past year on the assumption that we wouldn't have to pay any come April. WRONG. It seems that even though we paid our estimated taxes, the wife didn't take out enough witholdings in her job and most of my freelance writing and editing work is done sans witholdings of any sort. So we had a chunk to pay and another chunk of estimated tax for the first quarter.
Then there were the state taxes to deal with, which we hadn't even looked at until Monday night. The wife was mentally fatigued from being on call over the weekend and I'm just naturally mentally fatigued, so the whole process took us a couple of hours. In fact, we spent 45 minutes trying to determine what sort of penalty we would have to pay because we had so woefully underestimated the amount of taxes we would owe the state in the first place. To discern this penalty amount, we had to fill out two separate forms, do some quadratic equations, look up a bunch of crap in a table or two, eat some greasy peanut butter cookies and subtract line 7 from line 3. In the end, we owed the state an extra $3.03. THREE $%&#ING DOLLARS AND THREE CENTS!!!
"I would have given them $5 outright not to have to go through all that shit," I said.
And, really, that's how the IRS should do things. They'd probably make far more money off the average Joe who can't afford an accountant to simply have a check box that says, PAY $X FLAT FEE TO NOT TO HAVE TO GO THROUGH ALL THIS SHIT. And they could put nearly any amount in X that they wanted and it would still get paid!!
That HAS to be why taxes are so complicated. The IRS knows that by the time you've finished doing everything you have to do to get all the details right, you'd pretty much pay any amount of money just to be done with it.
Showing posts with label Tax Form Fun. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tax Form Fun. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
An Interlude (a.k.a. "Actual Conversations Heard in Actual Libraries #126")
SETTING: My "liberry" on a particularly hectic Monday, during Tax Week, shortly after we open for business. I'm still trying to empty the book return when chaos suddenly descends upon the circ-desk and we are nearly overwhelmed with people seeking tax forms, tax books, advice on how to fill out their tax forms, second requests for tax forms and tax books from idiots who can't seem to find them where we've just directed them to look, not to mention other idiots who've just printed out an entire 40 page 1040 tax instruction book when we had them available for free in the first place. Stepping into this chaos comes Mr. Dent, fourth grumpiest old man in all the world. He stands there like a big, dented, myopic eagle clutching three books in his talons.
ME-- (Thinking he's just returning books, I point to the numerous other stacks of returns on the desk) Hello. You can put returns there.
MR. DENT-- What?
ME-- You can put your returns there. (Points again.)
MR. DENT-- What?
ME-- Are you returning those books?
MR. DENT-- Yes. But I want to take one out again.
ME-- (Trying very hard not to sigh. It's way too early in the day for such a surly attitude on my part.) Okay. (I go behind the circ desk and switch the computer to renew, take his book, renew it, stamp it with the renewed due date and pass it back to him.) There you go.
MR. DENT-- Also, I need help finding a book. Do you have any books by...
(Pause)
MR. DENT-- Robert...
(Pause.)
MR. DENT-- Do you have him?
ME-- Uh, Robert who?
MR. DENT-- (In a tone that suggests he's already said the name clearly four times) Ludlum. L-U-D-L-A-M.
ME-- Oh, sure. (Pointing to Adult Fiction Stacks) His books will be over there in those tall shelves, under Ludlum.
MR. DENT-- No, I looked last week and he wasn't there. Would you show me?
ME-- (Glancing at the very apparent chaos around me, which has continued unabated during our exchange, with Ms. M barely able to handle it.) Certainly.
(At a near trot, I rush around the desk and toward the Adult Fiction Stacks. I arrive at the I-O aisle a good 30 seconds before Mr. Dent. When he arrives, I point up to an entire shelf level that is filled to capacity with hardback Robert Ludlum novels, not to mention a couple of Fake Shemp Ludlum novels by Eric Van Lustbader.)
ME-- There you go. This entire shelf is Ludlum.
MR. DENT-- (Peering up at it with a foul expression that suggests he fully believes this section indeed wasn't there last week and this is all somehow a joke at his expense.) Why on earth would you have him classified here and not -- (gestures back across the main floor presumably toward the Nonfiction stacks)
ME-- (Trying desperately not to sound snotty when I explain...) Because this is our Adult Fiction section. Ludlum was a fiction writer.
MR. DENT-- (In a most chastising tone) Sir Robert Ludlum.
(I give this a seething pause, then turn and walk away.)
ME-- (Thinking he's just returning books, I point to the numerous other stacks of returns on the desk) Hello. You can put returns there.
MR. DENT-- What?
ME-- You can put your returns there. (Points again.)
MR. DENT-- What?
ME-- Are you returning those books?
MR. DENT-- Yes. But I want to take one out again.
ME-- (Trying very hard not to sigh. It's way too early in the day for such a surly attitude on my part.) Okay. (I go behind the circ desk and switch the computer to renew, take his book, renew it, stamp it with the renewed due date and pass it back to him.) There you go.
MR. DENT-- Also, I need help finding a book. Do you have any books by...
(Pause)
MR. DENT-- Robert...
(Pause.)
MR. DENT-- Do you have him?
ME-- Uh, Robert who?
MR. DENT-- (In a tone that suggests he's already said the name clearly four times) Ludlum. L-U-D-L-A-M.
ME-- Oh, sure. (Pointing to Adult Fiction Stacks) His books will be over there in those tall shelves, under Ludlum.
MR. DENT-- No, I looked last week and he wasn't there. Would you show me?
ME-- (Glancing at the very apparent chaos around me, which has continued unabated during our exchange, with Ms. M barely able to handle it.) Certainly.
(At a near trot, I rush around the desk and toward the Adult Fiction Stacks. I arrive at the I-O aisle a good 30 seconds before Mr. Dent. When he arrives, I point up to an entire shelf level that is filled to capacity with hardback Robert Ludlum novels, not to mention a couple of Fake Shemp Ludlum novels by Eric Van Lustbader.)
ME-- There you go. This entire shelf is Ludlum.
MR. DENT-- (Peering up at it with a foul expression that suggests he fully believes this section indeed wasn't there last week and this is all somehow a joke at his expense.) Why on earth would you have him classified here and not -- (gestures back across the main floor presumably toward the Nonfiction stacks)
ME-- (Trying desperately not to sound snotty when I explain...) Because this is our Adult Fiction section. Ludlum was a fiction writer.
MR. DENT-- (In a most chastising tone) Sir Robert Ludlum.
(I give this a seething pause, then turn and walk away.)
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Actual Telephone Conversations Heard in Actual Libraries #121
*RING*
ME— Tri-Metro County Library.
OLDER LADY PATRON— Yes, I called earlier and the girl I spoke to told me to call back about having someone there do my taxes?
ME— Um, well, ma'am, actually we don't offer any kind of tax preparation service here. The only free tax preparation we know of is a local church that will be doing them on the following dates... (reads dates from newspaper clipping we keep stationed by the phone for this very purpose).
OLP— I was told you had two ladies there who did the taxes.
ME— No, ma'am. That information is incorrect. We do not have ANYONE here who is doing taxes. However, the local church I mentioned does have two ladies who will do taxes, but only on the following dates (reads dates again).
OLP— All right. Well, do you have a number I could call for that?
ME— Yes, ma'am. There's a contact number right here. (Reads number.)
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Actual Conversations Witnessed By Me and Therefore Heard in Actual Libraries #115
SETTING: My "liberry" at the circ desk as a female patron approaches. I watch as she engages Ms. M's attention and proceeds to ask a question.
FEMALE PATRON— Um, do you have any... um, returns?
MS. M— (Without so much as a beat for consideration) Do you mean tax forms?
FEMALE PATRON— (Happily) Yeah!
MS. M— Just around the corner there. (Points just around the corner there.)
(The Female patron scurries away for her "returns.")
ME— (Looking in awe at Ms. M) Impressive! I would nehhhhver have gotten that one.
MS. M— Hmm?
ME— That patron asked for "returns" and you knew she meant tax forms. I would never have guessed that in a million!
(Ms. M smiles & shrugs as only someone whose inner English/Patronese dictionary is on overdrive can. I then step into the staff workroom to spread to Mrs. B the news of the amazing feat I have just witnessed. She too is suitably impressed.)
FEMALE PATRON— Um, do you have any... um, returns?
MS. M— (Without so much as a beat for consideration) Do you mean tax forms?
FEMALE PATRON— (Happily) Yeah!
MS. M— Just around the corner there. (Points just around the corner there.)
(The Female patron scurries away for her "returns.")
ME— (Looking in awe at Ms. M) Impressive! I would nehhhhver have gotten that one.
MS. M— Hmm?
ME— That patron asked for "returns" and you knew she meant tax forms. I would never have guessed that in a million!
(Ms. M smiles & shrugs as only someone whose inner English/Patronese dictionary is on overdrive can. I then step into the staff workroom to spread to Mrs. B the news of the amazing feat I have just witnessed. She too is suitably impressed.)
Monday, February 11, 2008
Actual Telephone Conversations Heard in Actual Libraries #112
*RING*
ME— Tri-Metro County Library.
FEMALE CALLER— Yeah, are ya'll doin' taxes again this year?
ME— We've never done taxes.
(Pause)
CALLER— Oh.
(Another pause)
CALLER— Do you know anywhere that is?
ME— I'm afraid we don't.
(At least, not for free. This is not the first such call we've received this year and it won't be our last, particularly since we have heard from our patrons that the folks at the local H&R Block office are yet again telling people that we're doing taxes for free. I'm afraid I'm going to have to go down there and straighten them out on this point in person rather than simply phoning them as we've had to do in years past.)
ME— Tri-Metro County Library.
FEMALE CALLER— Yeah, are ya'll doin' taxes again this year?
ME— We've never done taxes.
(Pause)
CALLER— Oh.
(Another pause)
CALLER— Do you know anywhere that is?
ME— I'm afraid we don't.
(At least, not for free. This is not the first such call we've received this year and it won't be our last, particularly since we have heard from our patrons that the folks at the local H&R Block office are yet again telling people that we're doing taxes for free. I'm afraid I'm going to have to go down there and straighten them out on this point in person rather than simply phoning them as we've had to do in years past.)
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
A man walks into a library...
The exterior door of the staff workroom opened and a man we'd never seen before walked in. It sort of surprised us, because generally the only folks who enter the building via the staff workroom exterior door are the staff.
He stepped into the room, looked around at the desks, piles of book donations, processing supplies and general clutter, then walked across the room to the interior door behind the circ-desk that led to the library proper. Ms. D and I stared at him.
"Oh, uh... I must have come in the wrong door," the man said.
Ms. D and I agreed that he had and wondered how this man could have confused the door he had entered--a small door at the end of our delivery drive that's barely visible from the parking lot--with the large and obvious double doored main entrance out front. We helpfully pointed to the real entrance for him.
The man looked a little embarrassed. "This is my first time in here," he said. He then quickly walked away from us, stepping around the corner toward the nonfiction stacks and our video shelves, atop which we have our giant display of tax forms. Half a minute later he returned.
"Um... do you all have tax forms?"
"Yeah," I said, pointing back in the direction from which he had come. "Just around the corner there on top of the videos."
"There's a giant sign that says `Tax Forms,' " Ms. D added. The man dropped his gaze, embarrassed once again at his own complete lack of observation skills.
Eventually, forms in hand, he departed via the correct door.
He stepped into the room, looked around at the desks, piles of book donations, processing supplies and general clutter, then walked across the room to the interior door behind the circ-desk that led to the library proper. Ms. D and I stared at him.
"Oh, uh... I must have come in the wrong door," the man said.
Ms. D and I agreed that he had and wondered how this man could have confused the door he had entered--a small door at the end of our delivery drive that's barely visible from the parking lot--with the large and obvious double doored main entrance out front. We helpfully pointed to the real entrance for him.
The man looked a little embarrassed. "This is my first time in here," he said. He then quickly walked away from us, stepping around the corner toward the nonfiction stacks and our video shelves, atop which we have our giant display of tax forms. Half a minute later he returned.
"Um... do you all have tax forms?"
"Yeah," I said, pointing back in the direction from which he had come. "Just around the corner there on top of the videos."
"There's a giant sign that says `Tax Forms,' " Ms. D added. The man dropped his gaze, embarrassed once again at his own complete lack of observation skills.
Eventually, forms in hand, he departed via the correct door.
Monday, April 23, 2007
Nearly Killed a Neo-Hippy
A female neo-hippy happened in the other day to inquire about our free tax preparation service. (And for the record, this was an I-like-to-wear-patchouli-and-be-kind-to-the-earth-but-am-not-in-your-face-about-it-all-the-time-cute-granola-mom hippy, as opposed to an Everything-in-this-whole-country-is-wrong-and-it's-somehow-your-fault-(AND-George-Bush's)-and-you're-part-of-the-problem-because-you-won't-let-me-check-out-without-my-library-card-Where's-my-disability-check? hippy.) I had to explain to her that our free tax preparation program, despite what H&R Block and the other members of THEY keep telling people, is non-existent. Haven't had one for nigh on a decade and have no plans to aquire one. We've heard too many horror stories from other libraries that offer such programs—stories that include patrons being audited and blaming libraries for it, when, in fact, it was the fault of the tax preparer who volunteered at the library, or the fault of the patron themselves. No, sir. Don't need any of that.
Our neo-hippy patron then asked if I knew where she could get such free help locally. I explained that another area library still foolishly does offer such a service, but only to the elderly. For people her age, I knew of no other such service. And believe me, we've had an ear out for such services, cause we'd like nothing better than to roll that ball into someone else's court. (Course, now that I think of it, I could have told her the name of Amateur Accountant Tax Form Lady Who Plagues Us Every Year, except that might legally constitute giving tax advice and possibly poor advice at that.)
After she was satisfied that we weren't hiding such a program, she asked to use a computer and went off to have some internet time. Within 20 minutes or so, our printer began spitting out paper and continued doing so for a couple of minutes. Mrs. B and I were chatting, so I didn't notice the excessive printing until the neo-hippy came up and began freaking out at the mass of paper still spewing from the guts of the printer.
"Oh!! Ohh!!" she squealed, waving her hands in panic. "It's printing too many! I didn't print that many!"
I reached over and pressed the Cancel Job button. After a page or so more, it stopped printing. Then it started printing her next job, which from the "Page 1 of 60" at the top, was nearly as large as the last. I cancelled that one too. And then the 80 page third job that followed it.
"I didn't tell it to print that many," the hippy lady insisted. "I only wanted it to print the three sections I highlighted."
Ah, yes, the old No, I Only Printed the Highlighted Bits flawed theory of printing from the innanet. I explained to her how wrong she was in assuming you can somehow highlight stuff and hit print and actually get only that highlighted stuff without first going to the print menu and clicking the little box by SELECTED.
"What a waste of paper," the hippy lady said, gathering up the 70 or so pages she had coming to her. "I only wanted the three paragraphs I highlighted."
Obviously my first lesson hadn't taken. So, on my own screen, I called up a website, highlighted some text, went to the print menu and showed her the SELECTED option. "This is what you need to click next time," I said.
"What about this time? What do I do with this?" she said, holding out her quarter ream of paper, sympathy-seeking expression on her face.
"We charge 10 cents a page," I told her.
The lady, to her credit, didn't argue and paid us the $7.
Our neo-hippy patron then asked if I knew where she could get such free help locally. I explained that another area library still foolishly does offer such a service, but only to the elderly. For people her age, I knew of no other such service. And believe me, we've had an ear out for such services, cause we'd like nothing better than to roll that ball into someone else's court. (Course, now that I think of it, I could have told her the name of Amateur Accountant Tax Form Lady Who Plagues Us Every Year, except that might legally constitute giving tax advice and possibly poor advice at that.)
After she was satisfied that we weren't hiding such a program, she asked to use a computer and went off to have some internet time. Within 20 minutes or so, our printer began spitting out paper and continued doing so for a couple of minutes. Mrs. B and I were chatting, so I didn't notice the excessive printing until the neo-hippy came up and began freaking out at the mass of paper still spewing from the guts of the printer.
"Oh!! Ohh!!" she squealed, waving her hands in panic. "It's printing too many! I didn't print that many!"
I reached over and pressed the Cancel Job button. After a page or so more, it stopped printing. Then it started printing her next job, which from the "Page 1 of 60" at the top, was nearly as large as the last. I cancelled that one too. And then the 80 page third job that followed it.
"I didn't tell it to print that many," the hippy lady insisted. "I only wanted it to print the three sections I highlighted."
Ah, yes, the old No, I Only Printed the Highlighted Bits flawed theory of printing from the innanet. I explained to her how wrong she was in assuming you can somehow highlight stuff and hit print and actually get only that highlighted stuff without first going to the print menu and clicking the little box by SELECTED.
"What a waste of paper," the hippy lady said, gathering up the 70 or so pages she had coming to her. "I only wanted the three paragraphs I highlighted."
Obviously my first lesson hadn't taken. So, on my own screen, I called up a website, highlighted some text, went to the print menu and showed her the SELECTED option. "This is what you need to click next time," I said.
"What about this time? What do I do with this?" she said, holding out her quarter ream of paper, sympathy-seeking expression on her face.
"We charge 10 cents a page," I told her.
The lady, to her credit, didn't argue and paid us the $7.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
"...and I'll take a 1040 EZ, if you got it."
I rather expected today be a full on tax day nightmare, with patrons hounding me for obscure tax forms covering multiple states and even extradimensional realities the whole day long. Astoundingly it wasn't.
Oh, people came in for tax forms, all right, but I noticed that many of them did it almost as an afterthought. They'd browse the shelves, find a couple of books, pick a couple of nostrils, check out their selection, and then half-way out the door of the building, their foot hovering in mid-step, they'd pause, look thoughtful for a long moment, then turn around and pick up a tax form or two, as though they had weeks and weeks to get them filled out and mailed. This happened repeatedly.
No, the most trouble I've had out of the tax people recently was during the chaos of Friday the 13th, when a kid of barely employable age came in seeking a 1099. Now, I knew we didn't have any 1099s and that we couldn't print them from the IRS site due to the form being a carbon copy layered form, but I thought it would be both an object lesson and amusing to see how perpetual newbie greenhorn Ms. S handled the situation. We've given her instructions on all aspects of her job in the past, but she has yet to listen to any of us. Let her fire up the ol' innanet and see how far she gets, I thought.
"What sort of 1099 do you need?" she asked, after locating the IRS forms page in just under a minute.
"Um... a 1099," the kid repeated.
"They don't list a 1099. It has 1099-A, 1099-B, 1099-C and lots of others, but not a 1099. Which one do you need?"
"Uh... Um... I don't know."
There was a long silence. After it drew out into an uncomfortable one, I stepped in.
"Why don't you try loading one of them?"
"Huh?" Ms. S said.
"Load one of them."
"Which one?"
"It doesn't matter."
She looked at me blankly, so I stepped over to her terminal and pointed to the 1099-A.
"Load that one."
She loaded it and the little note explaining that the 1099 forms are not to be printed from the website and are shown only as an example of what such forms might look like if encountered in the real world, popped up on the first page. Ms. S still didn't seem to get it. So I explained to the kid the nature of the form and how we couldn't print one for him even if he knew which form it was he required.
"Well, how do I find out what form I need?"
"I don't know. You should probably ask your employer."
The kid didn't seem to like that option, but persevered with, "Well, where do I get the forms?"
"I don't know that either," I said. "LOCALLY OWNED OFFICE SUPPLY PLACE has carried them in the past, but they might make you buy a whole pack. You might also ask your employer."
Oh, people came in for tax forms, all right, but I noticed that many of them did it almost as an afterthought. They'd browse the shelves, find a couple of books, pick a couple of nostrils, check out their selection, and then half-way out the door of the building, their foot hovering in mid-step, they'd pause, look thoughtful for a long moment, then turn around and pick up a tax form or two, as though they had weeks and weeks to get them filled out and mailed. This happened repeatedly.
No, the most trouble I've had out of the tax people recently was during the chaos of Friday the 13th, when a kid of barely employable age came in seeking a 1099. Now, I knew we didn't have any 1099s and that we couldn't print them from the IRS site due to the form being a carbon copy layered form, but I thought it would be both an object lesson and amusing to see how perpetual newbie greenhorn Ms. S handled the situation. We've given her instructions on all aspects of her job in the past, but she has yet to listen to any of us. Let her fire up the ol' innanet and see how far she gets, I thought.
"What sort of 1099 do you need?" she asked, after locating the IRS forms page in just under a minute.
"Um... a 1099," the kid repeated.
"They don't list a 1099. It has 1099-A, 1099-B, 1099-C and lots of others, but not a 1099. Which one do you need?"
"Uh... Um... I don't know."
There was a long silence. After it drew out into an uncomfortable one, I stepped in.
"Why don't you try loading one of them?"
"Huh?" Ms. S said.
"Load one of them."
"Which one?"
"It doesn't matter."
She looked at me blankly, so I stepped over to her terminal and pointed to the 1099-A.
"Load that one."
She loaded it and the little note explaining that the 1099 forms are not to be printed from the website and are shown only as an example of what such forms might look like if encountered in the real world, popped up on the first page. Ms. S still didn't seem to get it. So I explained to the kid the nature of the form and how we couldn't print one for him even if he knew which form it was he required.
"Well, how do I find out what form I need?"
"I don't know. You should probably ask your employer."
The kid didn't seem to like that option, but persevered with, "Well, where do I get the forms?"
"I don't know that either," I said. "LOCALLY OWNED OFFICE SUPPLY PLACE has carried them in the past, but they might make you buy a whole pack. You might also ask your employer."
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Actual Conversations Heard in Actual Libraries #77
SETTING— My "liberry." Two ladies are searching through our collection of tax forms, trying to figure out which forms they will need for their respective tax preparations. At this point, one of them had already approached me for tax form advice, which I refused to give on the grounds that I have no business giving anyone advice on taxes even if library policy allowed me to, which it most certainly does not. We provide forms, we do not provide advice on what to do with those forms. So she returned to our tax form display and continued her search.
LADY 1— They say you can go on the computer and it will tell you everything you need to know. (NOTE: By "they" she was referring to THEY, not us.)
LADY 2— Hm. You should go to the library and do that.
(Pause)
LADY 1— Go to the library?
LADY 2— Yeah. You should go to the library and check on that.
(Pause)
LADY 1— This IS the library.
(Pause)
LADY 2— Oh, yeah. (Pause) I meant the library in TOWN-M.
LADY 1— They say you can go on the computer and it will tell you everything you need to know. (NOTE: By "they" she was referring to THEY, not us.)
LADY 2— Hm. You should go to the library and do that.
(Pause)
LADY 1— Go to the library?
LADY 2— Yeah. You should go to the library and check on that.
(Pause)
LADY 1— This IS the library.
(Pause)
LADY 2— Oh, yeah. (Pause) I meant the library in TOWN-M.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
If you put the forms out, they will come.
Yeah, I figured that would do it. Writing that we haven't had any problems with tax form people is the easiest way to summon precisely that sort of problem. Sure enough, today, just after everyone else on staff had left the building to go to lunch, a big ol' wingnut of a form-seeker ambled up to the desk.
"I need state tax forms."
"We have those," I said, warming up to direct him to the large display of forms he'd just walked past.
"I need s-corporation state forms for 2003, 2004 and 2006. And personal forms for 2003, 2004 and 2006."
Already I was at a disadvantage, for I've never heard of an s-corporation before, but I figured I could find it on the state's tax form page.
"Well, the personal forms we already have. At least, for 2006," I explained. "The rest I'll try to find for you from their site."
"Yeah, they said you'd probably have to look `em up," he said. Ah, yes. The mysterious THEY. "You say you got personal forms here?" he added.
"Yes," I said, pointing at the top of the floor shelf behind him. "They're on the other side of that shelf, in the bins."
The man walked around to the other side where he began staring at the piles of federal tax forms stacked directly next to the three bins containing state booklets. "Oh, in the bins," he said with the tone of a statement. He still wasn't seeing them.
"No, in the bins," I said. "In the plastic bins," I added. "In the yellow, white and black plastic bins," I continued. He looked in every conceivable place EXCEPT at the bins.
"The bins?" he said.
"Yes, the plastic bins... The bins.... No, the BINS... The PLASTIC bins," I said.
I don't know why I expected more from a man who, apparently, had failed to pay his taxes for the past four years for either himself or his business (except, apparently, for 2005). After a few more tries, he finally spotted them. As he dug around, I brought up the state's tax form site and began looking for s-corp forms. There were none to be found on just a cursory glance so I started a search for them. I did note, though, that the site only offered forms for years since 2004.
Another man came up to the desk while I searched, so I paused to ask if I could help him.
"Yeah, you're holding some c0ntract0rs books for me," he said. Aw great. As if searching for obscure forms wasn't keeping me busy enough during my solo desk time, I had to deal with deposit books and all the headaches they entail.
I hate the c0ntract0rs manuals and I'm usually none too fond of the people who seek them. I had nothing against this particular guy, except that he and another would-be-c0ntract0r have been competing for the same set of books for the past three weeks. They've been driving us crazy by phoning to place holds on them, then not picking them up by the prescribed pickup time, then getting pissy about it when the books aren't there for them when they roll in two days late, then the guy who did get the books gets pissy that he has to bring them back after his week's loan time has passed cause the other guy now has them on hold again too, then getting pissy again when told he will lose his deposit if he doesn't, etc., etc., etc. The checkout process on the books is also an enormous hassle, cause we have to calculate the deposit amount (over $500 if they want the whole set), make them sign two identical deposit book policy forms (one for us, one for them), then we have to make them go back and actually READ the frickin' forms they just blindly signed, not to mention TAKE their copy of the form, so they have no excuse to give us enormous amounts of shit a week later, etc., etc., etc. This guy was very patient, though, even after I told him it was going to be a minute due to my tax form search.
I came up goose eggs on the s-corps search. Then Gene Gene the Geneal0gy Machine came in and signed up for a computer. He looked impatient to begin searching for members of his fambly. I ignored him.
"Um, do you happen to know a form number for these?" I asked the tax form guy.
"No. I don't even know if there is a form," the man said so very helpfully three minutes after he should have. He offered to go home, call someone who knew and return better prepared. Of course, I had to look up the number for someone who knew, but I'd already assumed that much.
I found the number, printed some forms for him and sent him on his way. I then dealt with c0ntract0r wannabe, calculated all his crap for him, having to do it twice cause our tiny calculator has even tinier buttons, spouted a few euphamistic curses, then found out that the dude already knew how much all the books would be because he was just going to reuse the same check he'd given us two weeks ago. Yes, helpful our patrons be.
I started to apologize to Gene for the wait, but he insisted on telling me about some long lost female relative he was trying to pin down all the way back to the computers. Instead of apologizing, I demonstrated the politeness of not kneeing him in the gut.
"I need state tax forms."
"We have those," I said, warming up to direct him to the large display of forms he'd just walked past.
"I need s-corporation state forms for 2003, 2004 and 2006. And personal forms for 2003, 2004 and 2006."
Already I was at a disadvantage, for I've never heard of an s-corporation before, but I figured I could find it on the state's tax form page.
"Well, the personal forms we already have. At least, for 2006," I explained. "The rest I'll try to find for you from their site."
"Yeah, they said you'd probably have to look `em up," he said. Ah, yes. The mysterious THEY. "You say you got personal forms here?" he added.
"Yes," I said, pointing at the top of the floor shelf behind him. "They're on the other side of that shelf, in the bins."
The man walked around to the other side where he began staring at the piles of federal tax forms stacked directly next to the three bins containing state booklets. "Oh, in the bins," he said with the tone of a statement. He still wasn't seeing them.
"No, in the bins," I said. "In the plastic bins," I added. "In the yellow, white and black plastic bins," I continued. He looked in every conceivable place EXCEPT at the bins.
"The bins?" he said.
"Yes, the plastic bins... The bins.... No, the BINS... The PLASTIC bins," I said.
I don't know why I expected more from a man who, apparently, had failed to pay his taxes for the past four years for either himself or his business (except, apparently, for 2005). After a few more tries, he finally spotted them. As he dug around, I brought up the state's tax form site and began looking for s-corp forms. There were none to be found on just a cursory glance so I started a search for them. I did note, though, that the site only offered forms for years since 2004.
Another man came up to the desk while I searched, so I paused to ask if I could help him.
"Yeah, you're holding some c0ntract0rs books for me," he said. Aw great. As if searching for obscure forms wasn't keeping me busy enough during my solo desk time, I had to deal with deposit books and all the headaches they entail.
I hate the c0ntract0rs manuals and I'm usually none too fond of the people who seek them. I had nothing against this particular guy, except that he and another would-be-c0ntract0r have been competing for the same set of books for the past three weeks. They've been driving us crazy by phoning to place holds on them, then not picking them up by the prescribed pickup time, then getting pissy about it when the books aren't there for them when they roll in two days late, then the guy who did get the books gets pissy that he has to bring them back after his week's loan time has passed cause the other guy now has them on hold again too, then getting pissy again when told he will lose his deposit if he doesn't, etc., etc., etc. The checkout process on the books is also an enormous hassle, cause we have to calculate the deposit amount (over $500 if they want the whole set), make them sign two identical deposit book policy forms (one for us, one for them), then we have to make them go back and actually READ the frickin' forms they just blindly signed, not to mention TAKE their copy of the form, so they have no excuse to give us enormous amounts of shit a week later, etc., etc., etc. This guy was very patient, though, even after I told him it was going to be a minute due to my tax form search.
I came up goose eggs on the s-corps search. Then Gene Gene the Geneal0gy Machine came in and signed up for a computer. He looked impatient to begin searching for members of his fambly. I ignored him.
"Um, do you happen to know a form number for these?" I asked the tax form guy.
"No. I don't even know if there is a form," the man said so very helpfully three minutes after he should have. He offered to go home, call someone who knew and return better prepared. Of course, I had to look up the number for someone who knew, but I'd already assumed that much.
I found the number, printed some forms for him and sent him on his way. I then dealt with c0ntract0r wannabe, calculated all his crap for him, having to do it twice cause our tiny calculator has even tinier buttons, spouted a few euphamistic curses, then found out that the dude already knew how much all the books would be because he was just going to reuse the same check he'd given us two weeks ago. Yes, helpful our patrons be.
I started to apologize to Gene for the wait, but he insisted on telling me about some long lost female relative he was trying to pin down all the way back to the computers. Instead of apologizing, I demonstrated the politeness of not kneeing him in the gut.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Taxing My Patience 2007, Suspiciously Not
I realize we're still a month away from the deadline for taxes, providing plenty of time for things to go awry, but so far we've had surprisingly few problems with the tax form crowd this year.
In fact, yesterday was the first time all year that someone asked me where the state tax forms were located, prompting me to direct them to the glaringly obvious state tax booklets in the plastic bins directly beneath their nose. And, in their defense, they were looking for individual forms not booklets and were somehow unaware that our state preinserts the forms into the instruction booklets and issues them no other way, unless you print them from their website.
No one has yet come in asking us for W-2s.
No one has even futilly asked for a 1099 form.
And Amateur Accountaint Tax Form Lady Who Plagues Us Every Year has only been in a couple of times so far and was apologetic at asking us to print out of state or otherwise obscure forms for her.
One might even say it's been suspiciously quiet on the tax form front. Almost as if the tax form people are lying in wait to leap out at us later. I'm thinking April 13.
In fact, yesterday was the first time all year that someone asked me where the state tax forms were located, prompting me to direct them to the glaringly obvious state tax booklets in the plastic bins directly beneath their nose. And, in their defense, they were looking for individual forms not booklets and were somehow unaware that our state preinserts the forms into the instruction booklets and issues them no other way, unless you print them from their website.
No one has yet come in asking us for W-2s.
No one has even futilly asked for a 1099 form.
And Amateur Accountaint Tax Form Lady Who Plagues Us Every Year has only been in a couple of times so far and was apologetic at asking us to print out of state or otherwise obscure forms for her.
One might even say it's been suspiciously quiet on the tax form front. Almost as if the tax form people are lying in wait to leap out at us later. I'm thinking April 13.
Monday, February 19, 2007
Actual Telephone Conversations Heard in Actual Libraries #72
*RING*
ME-- Tri Metro County Library.
CALLER-- *mumble*mumble*mumble* tax books.
ME-- I'm sorry, what?
CALLER-- Do you all have tax books?
ME-- Yes, we do.
CALLER-- You do? You do have tax books?
ME-- (Did I stutter?) Yes. We. Do.
ME-- Tri Metro County Library.
CALLER-- *mumble*mumble*mumble* tax books.
ME-- I'm sorry, what?
CALLER-- Do you all have tax books?
ME-- Yes, we do.
CALLER-- You do? You do have tax books?
ME-- (Did I stutter?) Yes. We. Do.
Friday, February 10, 2006
Actual Conversations Heard in Actual Libraries #45
PATRON: Hey, do you got any tax forms here?
ME: Yes, sir. They're right behind you.
PATRON: (Turns and notices the large and obvious display of tax forms he missed on the way in the door.) Uh, thanks.
(The patron leafs through a few forms and booklets, picking out what he needs from the Federal side of the shelf.)
PATRON: Uh, you got any more state forms?
ME: (Sighes loudly within head) Yes. They're on the other side of the shelf there, in the yellow bin.
(Long pause)
PATRON: No they're not.
ME: Huh?
PATRON: It's empty.
ME: Oh. Oops.
ME: Yes, sir. They're right behind you.
PATRON: (Turns and notices the large and obvious display of tax forms he missed on the way in the door.) Uh, thanks.
(The patron leafs through a few forms and booklets, picking out what he needs from the Federal side of the shelf.)
PATRON: Uh, you got any more state forms?
ME: (Sighes loudly within head) Yes. They're on the other side of the shelf there, in the yellow bin.
(Long pause)
PATRON: No they're not.
ME: Huh?
PATRON: It's empty.
ME: Oh. Oops.
Thursday, April 07, 2005
The Fair Tax Plan Can't Happen Soon Enough!
I’m far more Libertarian than I am Democrat or Republican. The L-word
can be a bad one for a lot of people, many of whom picture Libertarians
as a bunch of pot-heads yammering for drug-legalization. And
sure, there’s a lot of them to be found among the ranks. However, I hew
more to the strict definition of Libertarian.
The World's Smallest Political Quiz defines Libertarians as those who, “support maximum liberty in both personal and economic matters. They advocate a much smaller government; one that is limited to protecting individuals from coercion and violence. Libertarians tend to embrace individual responsibility, oppose government bureaucracy and taxes, promote private charity, tolerate diverse lifestyles, support the free market, and defend civil liberties.”
Why do I uncharacteristically go all political and start mentioning Libertarians here? Because I like Neal Boortz.
That’s right, I said it. I like Atlanta-based radio on-air personality and card-carrying Libertarian Neal Boortz. He’s terribly entertaining and he’s the guy who I first heard singing the praises of the Fair Tax Plan a couple of years back.
What’s the Fair Tax plan? Well, in case you haven’t heard, the Fair Tax plan is a proposal by which the I R S would be done away with and a new National Sales Tax would be instituted whereby our income tax would be paid through the purchase of goods and services. Such basic necessities as food, shelter, transportation, etc. would still be taxed, but those people with incomes near the poverty level (i.e. folks who aren’t paying income tax under the current system anyway) would receive a monthly rebate of their taxes so they wouldn’t be unfairly treated.
All your frequently asked questions about the plan can be answered at the Fair Tax Page. One question they won’t answer, though, is why precisely am I bringing up Libertarians, Neal Boortz and Fair Tax in the first place.
Because if the Fair Tax system were in place now, I wouldn’t be having to deal with all the patrons coming in and bugging me for obscure income tax forms we don’t have!
Today, from the time I arrived, the next five patrons through the door were after tax forms. One lady looked as though she might bust out crying if she couldn’t get a state tax form right that second. Three others needed obscure forms we don’t stock, but which we can print out from the internet. So every time I’d print off a page or two for a patron and then return the browser back to our standard Opac home page, someone else would come in and need odd forms too and I’d have to go back to the I R S site and hunt them down. After the third time doing this in so many minutes, I just resigned myself to the fact that we’d be pestered by tax people all day and left an extra browser window open to the I R S forms & pubs site.
Of course, after doing that, I didn’t have another obscure tax form request for the rest of the day.
The World's Smallest Political Quiz defines Libertarians as those who, “support maximum liberty in both personal and economic matters. They advocate a much smaller government; one that is limited to protecting individuals from coercion and violence. Libertarians tend to embrace individual responsibility, oppose government bureaucracy and taxes, promote private charity, tolerate diverse lifestyles, support the free market, and defend civil liberties.”
Why do I uncharacteristically go all political and start mentioning Libertarians here? Because I like Neal Boortz.
That’s right, I said it. I like Atlanta-based radio on-air personality and card-carrying Libertarian Neal Boortz. He’s terribly entertaining and he’s the guy who I first heard singing the praises of the Fair Tax Plan a couple of years back.
What’s the Fair Tax plan? Well, in case you haven’t heard, the Fair Tax plan is a proposal by which the I R S would be done away with and a new National Sales Tax would be instituted whereby our income tax would be paid through the purchase of goods and services. Such basic necessities as food, shelter, transportation, etc. would still be taxed, but those people with incomes near the poverty level (i.e. folks who aren’t paying income tax under the current system anyway) would receive a monthly rebate of their taxes so they wouldn’t be unfairly treated.
All your frequently asked questions about the plan can be answered at the Fair Tax Page. One question they won’t answer, though, is why precisely am I bringing up Libertarians, Neal Boortz and Fair Tax in the first place.
Because if the Fair Tax system were in place now, I wouldn’t be having to deal with all the patrons coming in and bugging me for obscure income tax forms we don’t have!
Today, from the time I arrived, the next five patrons through the door were after tax forms. One lady looked as though she might bust out crying if she couldn’t get a state tax form right that second. Three others needed obscure forms we don’t stock, but which we can print out from the internet. So every time I’d print off a page or two for a patron and then return the browser back to our standard Opac home page, someone else would come in and need odd forms too and I’d have to go back to the I R S site and hunt them down. After the third time doing this in so many minutes, I just resigned myself to the fact that we’d be pestered by tax people all day and left an extra browser window open to the I R S forms & pubs site.
Of course, after doing that, I didn’t have another obscure tax form request for the rest of the day.
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
Weird Wednesday
Yesterday was Weird Wednesday.
Not every Wednesday is a Weird Wednesday, but when we have more than our usual share of mentally unbalanced or otherwise questionable patrons who weird us out, they are. It's not always on a Wednesday either. Sometimes we have Terrible Tuesdays, In Need of Therapy Thursdays and Freaky Fridays. Oh, and of course, Manic Mondays.
Yesterday didn't even have all THAT much weirdness, but still more than qualifies because of the appearance of two people, one of which was Ron the Ripper.
We've not seen Ron in several months now and the past few times he's been in he has been startlingly well-behaved and failed to rip anything, let alone a magazine. The only really notable thing about Ron's appearance today is that accompanying him was a woman who had to have been his mother (Ma Ripper) because she looked exactly like Ron except 20 years older; which is to say, a stout fellow around 5'7" with salt & pepper hair, well-shaven (for once) and not quite as manic a gleam in the eye as he once had.
The two of them went upstairs where I imagined they would both snatch up a couple of our good magazines before sitting together at one of our tables where they would both proceed to page-flip the magazines to death. I wondered if maybe Ma Ripper would emit caveman growls like her son when confronted about their destruction.
Alas, nothing so colorful happened. From what I'm told by my fellow staff members who observed them, Ron and Ma Ripper sat upstairs in the chairs by our magazine rack where Ma Ripper flipped very slowly and carefully through a magazine while Ron sat obediently in his own chair with no magazine whatsoever and seemed happy for the opportunity.
That guy has really mellowed out.
The other Weird Wednesday qualifier came just half an hour into my shift, when we were visited by yet another in our long string of computer illiterate technophobes.
Two Mondays ago (Manic Monday!) a gentleman phoned the library toward the end of one of the many bursts of Monday chaos to ask if we had internet access.
"Yes, we do," I told him.
He then politely explained that he was not at all familiar with how to use the internet and asked if we would show him how to use it should he come by. He said he needed some tax information from the IRS website. I explained that that particular day, again, a Monday, we would be unable to assist him in that regard being as how we was really just me and I was stranded at the circ-desk dealing with the Monday and wouldn't be able to slip away, even to take myself a whiz. However, if he wouldn't mind coming in on nearly any other weekday, we'd be happy to help him out.
This may seem strange behavior for me, as I've done my share of complaining bitterly in the past about computer illiterates and the techniques they employ toward their ultimate goal of driving me insane. (See: Ms. I.N. Phyte and Mr. Little Stupid.) However, this man was at least not delusional about having any computer skills and was willing to admit it, politely, and ask for my help. He hadn't just buzzed on by that Monday afternoon to insist upon it nor did he pretend he knew what he was doing and just plop down and stare at the screen for 20 minutes until someone noticed he was a moron. No, this gentleman had phoned, in advance, to inquire if we would be willing to help him! Now that's refreshing!!!
I told the man to come on down Tuesday through Friday, preferably in the afternoon when we have the most available staff. And, at this, he thanked me for my time and help.
Yesterday was his chosen day. Once again, he phoned ahead and spoke with Mrs. A, asking her if we could help put him on the internet should he come down. I know this because as soon as he'd asked it, Mrs. A looked to me--the guy who would be doing the actual helping--and asked if I was willing. "Sure thing," I said.
Fifteen minutes later, the man arrived. He had evidently been working out or jogging or was preparing to go workout or jog, for he was wearing nylon exercise pants beneath a pair of shorts. I've seen this look before and I've never understood it. What are people who do this trying to say? Is it: "Hey, check out these cool shorts I'd really like to be wearing except that it's too EFFing cold to just wear shorts, so I put `em on over my fancy nylon workout britches! "? Sorry. I just don't understand the look.
Anyway, we signed Mr. Shorts in at the clip board and I took him on back where I thought I would have to hand hold him through the process. Once in the computer hall, the man explained that he owned a computer but it wasn't hooked up to the internet at all. You might think this would make him a candidate for at least SOME computer skills, but, alas, no. Evidently Mr. Shorts's computer was not only not hooked up to the internet but it wasn't hooked up to a mouse either, cause he had quite a bit of trouble using ours. I explained the whole left click & drag the scroll bar thing in order to let him scroll down our home page to the IRS links I've helpfully placed there. It took him a few tries and I still don't think he was left-clicking properly. Eventually, he decided instead of dragging the scroll bar, he'd just click in the space beneath it so it would jump down to meet the mouse. He still wasn't left clicking properly, though, so it didn't work the first time either. Finally we got to the bottom of the page and he successfully clicked (double) on the IRS link.
Mr. Shorts explained he was looking for a publication that would help him with charitable deductions. I showed him where the forms & publications page was and how to search for things with the IRS search engine. I suggested some search terms and was prepared to stand there and further assist, but dude indicated that I'd helped enough and he thought he could handle it from there, so I told him to let me know if I could help further and returned to the circ desk.
For the most part, he was right. It took him ten minutes or so, but he did mange to find the publication he was searching for. However, he was mystified about how to get to the publication from the search page. He didn't realize that the linked publication title could be clicked to take him there. My fault for assuming he knew how.
Now, it might seem that I'm making fun of the man at this point, but I'm really not. I understand that there are people who don't know anything about the internet, even people as young as this guy (who was in his 40's, I'd say). I also understand that there are people who think it's fine and dandy to wear shorts on top of their pants regardless of how retarded it might look. Whatever. I'm still not making fun of him; just observing. The part where I actually make fun of him is coming up.
After he finished copying down the information he needed from the online publication, Mr. Shorts came back up front and once again thanked me for my time and for helping him out. Again, mighty nice of him. He then began browsing through some of our new non-fiction. This is when warning bells began to go off in my head and I became preoccupied in typing up spine-labels for some incoming new books in order to keep as far away from the circulation desk as possible. Mrs. A and C were both in proximity to the desk, so I was hoping they would be the ones who had to deal with what I knew was coming next.
After a few minutes, Mr. Shorts began to look as though he was ready to check out. That's when I took my avoidance of the circ-desk a step further by hauling ass out of the room with an armload of non-fiction to take to the book cart upstairs.
See I knew there was no way in hell this guy actually had a library card with us, except maybe on the old defunct system and not the new freshness. And as techno-phobic as he'd seemed before, I also knew there was no way he was going to want to jump through the hoops we require to get a library card without some kind of paranoid tantrum. Upon returning from upstairs, I discovered that I was very very right on this count.
Mrs. A was at the desk, peering down as Mr. Shorts filled out his application for a library card. He had only made it as far as the drivers' license number.
"That's a drivers license number. That's personal information," he was saying. "That's just as dangerous as giving out your Social Security number! There's no way you can guarantee me that that this system is secure!"
Mrs. A didn't even attempt to guarantee him that our system is secure. After all, it's not our job to have a secure system; that's the job of the tech-boys back at the head office. They say it is, we have to take their word on it. What Mrs. A did do was politely explain to dude the reasons why we insist upon having a drivers license number in the first place. I knew it was futile to do so. It always is.
Dude didn't hear a bit of it. He was too busy waiting to say what he said next, which was, "All a thief needs is your social security number and your drivers license number and he can steal your identity. I don't even put that information in my own computer."
That's right.
He said he didn't put that information in his own computer.
Y'know, the one that's not even hooked up to the internet in the first place.
Mrs. A continued to skillfully ignore his rants. She'd given her explanation to him and he hadn't torn up his application. In fact, he'd gone ahead and written down his license number for her, which she confirmed from his license, so he wasn't so bent out of shape that he didn't want the card anyway.
My master plan of not being the guy on the desk when Mr. Shorts did what I knew Mr. Shorts was gonna do worked like a charm. Mrs. A is far better suited to not going off on people than I am in such situations. Her philosophy of answering the questions she can and politely ignoring the rants in between seems to work for her pretty well.
Not every Wednesday is a Weird Wednesday, but when we have more than our usual share of mentally unbalanced or otherwise questionable patrons who weird us out, they are. It's not always on a Wednesday either. Sometimes we have Terrible Tuesdays, In Need of Therapy Thursdays and Freaky Fridays. Oh, and of course, Manic Mondays.
Yesterday didn't even have all THAT much weirdness, but still more than qualifies because of the appearance of two people, one of which was Ron the Ripper.
We've not seen Ron in several months now and the past few times he's been in he has been startlingly well-behaved and failed to rip anything, let alone a magazine. The only really notable thing about Ron's appearance today is that accompanying him was a woman who had to have been his mother (Ma Ripper) because she looked exactly like Ron except 20 years older; which is to say, a stout fellow around 5'7" with salt & pepper hair, well-shaven (for once) and not quite as manic a gleam in the eye as he once had.
The two of them went upstairs where I imagined they would both snatch up a couple of our good magazines before sitting together at one of our tables where they would both proceed to page-flip the magazines to death. I wondered if maybe Ma Ripper would emit caveman growls like her son when confronted about their destruction.
Alas, nothing so colorful happened. From what I'm told by my fellow staff members who observed them, Ron and Ma Ripper sat upstairs in the chairs by our magazine rack where Ma Ripper flipped very slowly and carefully through a magazine while Ron sat obediently in his own chair with no magazine whatsoever and seemed happy for the opportunity.
That guy has really mellowed out.
The other Weird Wednesday qualifier came just half an hour into my shift, when we were visited by yet another in our long string of computer illiterate technophobes.
Two Mondays ago (Manic Monday!) a gentleman phoned the library toward the end of one of the many bursts of Monday chaos to ask if we had internet access.
"Yes, we do," I told him.
He then politely explained that he was not at all familiar with how to use the internet and asked if we would show him how to use it should he come by. He said he needed some tax information from the IRS website. I explained that that particular day, again, a Monday, we would be unable to assist him in that regard being as how we was really just me and I was stranded at the circ-desk dealing with the Monday and wouldn't be able to slip away, even to take myself a whiz. However, if he wouldn't mind coming in on nearly any other weekday, we'd be happy to help him out.
This may seem strange behavior for me, as I've done my share of complaining bitterly in the past about computer illiterates and the techniques they employ toward their ultimate goal of driving me insane. (See: Ms. I.N. Phyte and Mr. Little Stupid.) However, this man was at least not delusional about having any computer skills and was willing to admit it, politely, and ask for my help. He hadn't just buzzed on by that Monday afternoon to insist upon it nor did he pretend he knew what he was doing and just plop down and stare at the screen for 20 minutes until someone noticed he was a moron. No, this gentleman had phoned, in advance, to inquire if we would be willing to help him! Now that's refreshing!!!
I told the man to come on down Tuesday through Friday, preferably in the afternoon when we have the most available staff. And, at this, he thanked me for my time and help.
Yesterday was his chosen day. Once again, he phoned ahead and spoke with Mrs. A, asking her if we could help put him on the internet should he come down. I know this because as soon as he'd asked it, Mrs. A looked to me--the guy who would be doing the actual helping--and asked if I was willing. "Sure thing," I said.
Fifteen minutes later, the man arrived. He had evidently been working out or jogging or was preparing to go workout or jog, for he was wearing nylon exercise pants beneath a pair of shorts. I've seen this look before and I've never understood it. What are people who do this trying to say? Is it: "Hey, check out these cool shorts I'd really like to be wearing except that it's too EFFing cold to just wear shorts, so I put `em on over my fancy nylon workout britches! "? Sorry. I just don't understand the look.
Anyway, we signed Mr. Shorts in at the clip board and I took him on back where I thought I would have to hand hold him through the process. Once in the computer hall, the man explained that he owned a computer but it wasn't hooked up to the internet at all. You might think this would make him a candidate for at least SOME computer skills, but, alas, no. Evidently Mr. Shorts's computer was not only not hooked up to the internet but it wasn't hooked up to a mouse either, cause he had quite a bit of trouble using ours. I explained the whole left click & drag the scroll bar thing in order to let him scroll down our home page to the IRS links I've helpfully placed there. It took him a few tries and I still don't think he was left-clicking properly. Eventually, he decided instead of dragging the scroll bar, he'd just click in the space beneath it so it would jump down to meet the mouse. He still wasn't left clicking properly, though, so it didn't work the first time either. Finally we got to the bottom of the page and he successfully clicked (double) on the IRS link.
Mr. Shorts explained he was looking for a publication that would help him with charitable deductions. I showed him where the forms & publications page was and how to search for things with the IRS search engine. I suggested some search terms and was prepared to stand there and further assist, but dude indicated that I'd helped enough and he thought he could handle it from there, so I told him to let me know if I could help further and returned to the circ desk.
For the most part, he was right. It took him ten minutes or so, but he did mange to find the publication he was searching for. However, he was mystified about how to get to the publication from the search page. He didn't realize that the linked publication title could be clicked to take him there. My fault for assuming he knew how.
Now, it might seem that I'm making fun of the man at this point, but I'm really not. I understand that there are people who don't know anything about the internet, even people as young as this guy (who was in his 40's, I'd say). I also understand that there are people who think it's fine and dandy to wear shorts on top of their pants regardless of how retarded it might look. Whatever. I'm still not making fun of him; just observing. The part where I actually make fun of him is coming up.
After he finished copying down the information he needed from the online publication, Mr. Shorts came back up front and once again thanked me for my time and for helping him out. Again, mighty nice of him. He then began browsing through some of our new non-fiction. This is when warning bells began to go off in my head and I became preoccupied in typing up spine-labels for some incoming new books in order to keep as far away from the circulation desk as possible. Mrs. A and C were both in proximity to the desk, so I was hoping they would be the ones who had to deal with what I knew was coming next.
After a few minutes, Mr. Shorts began to look as though he was ready to check out. That's when I took my avoidance of the circ-desk a step further by hauling ass out of the room with an armload of non-fiction to take to the book cart upstairs.
See I knew there was no way in hell this guy actually had a library card with us, except maybe on the old defunct system and not the new freshness. And as techno-phobic as he'd seemed before, I also knew there was no way he was going to want to jump through the hoops we require to get a library card without some kind of paranoid tantrum. Upon returning from upstairs, I discovered that I was very very right on this count.
Mrs. A was at the desk, peering down as Mr. Shorts filled out his application for a library card. He had only made it as far as the drivers' license number.
"That's a drivers license number. That's personal information," he was saying. "That's just as dangerous as giving out your Social Security number! There's no way you can guarantee me that that this system is secure!"
Mrs. A didn't even attempt to guarantee him that our system is secure. After all, it's not our job to have a secure system; that's the job of the tech-boys back at the head office. They say it is, we have to take their word on it. What Mrs. A did do was politely explain to dude the reasons why we insist upon having a drivers license number in the first place. I knew it was futile to do so. It always is.
Dude didn't hear a bit of it. He was too busy waiting to say what he said next, which was, "All a thief needs is your social security number and your drivers license number and he can steal your identity. I don't even put that information in my own computer."
That's right.
He said he didn't put that information in his own computer.
Y'know, the one that's not even hooked up to the internet in the first place.
Mrs. A continued to skillfully ignore his rants. She'd given her explanation to him and he hadn't torn up his application. In fact, he'd gone ahead and written down his license number for her, which she confirmed from his license, so he wasn't so bent out of shape that he didn't want the card anyway.
My master plan of not being the guy on the desk when Mr. Shorts did what I knew Mr. Shorts was gonna do worked like a charm. Mrs. A is far better suited to not going off on people than I am in such situations. Her philosophy of answering the questions she can and politely ignoring the rants in between seems to work for her pretty well.
Monday, February 21, 2005
Actual Semi-Paraphrased Telephone Conversations Heard in Actual Libraries #18
H&R BLOCK RECEPTIONIST: H&R Block.
MRS. C: Hi. This is MRS. C at the TRI-METRO County Public Library. We've had a several patrons come in who said you told them we had free tax preparation help. I just wanted to let you know that we don't offer that here. Only TOWN-C's branch does that and we're TOWN-A.
RECEPTIONIST: (Most defensively and pissily) We already know that! No one here has said anything like that. We haven't told anybody that.
MRS. C: Well, our patrons seem to think otherwise.
RECEPTIONIST: No one here would have said that!
MRS. C: Okay, then. Just wanted to make sure you knew.
RECEPTIONIST: We do. We know that.
MRS. C: Hi. This is MRS. C at the TRI-METRO County Public Library. We've had a several patrons come in who said you told them we had free tax preparation help. I just wanted to let you know that we don't offer that here. Only TOWN-C's branch does that and we're TOWN-A.
RECEPTIONIST: (Most defensively and pissily) We already know that! No one here has said anything like that. We haven't told anybody that.
MRS. C: Well, our patrons seem to think otherwise.
RECEPTIONIST: No one here would have said that!
MRS. C: Okay, then. Just wanted to make sure you knew.
RECEPTIONIST: We do. We know that.
Monday, January 31, 2005
Actual Semi-Paraphrased Conversations Heard in Actual Libraries LAST Week #15
SETTING: My "liberry," this week.
-------------------------
PATRON 1: Do you have tax forms?
ME: We have state forms. We do not have any federal forms. We ordered federal forms late and when we called to find out why they hadn't arrived when they were supposed to we were told by the IRS that the order had not been processed AT ALL. We're now expecting them sometime in early February.
PATRON 1: Do you know where I can get federal forms?
ME: I've heard the post office has them.
-------------------------
PATRON 2: Do you have 1099 forms?
ME: No, we don't have 1099 forms. Nor can we print them from the internet.
PATRON 2: Why not?
ME: Because it's a carbon copy form and when we bring them up from the website the form itself has "Info Copy Only" written across it.
PATRON 2: Do you know where I could get one?
ME: I've heard you can get them from LOCALLY OWNED OFFICE EQUIPMENT STORE, but I don't know that for sure. In fact, last year a man from LOCALLY OWNED OFFICE EQUIPMENT STORE came in here looking for 1099's himself, so maybe they don't. H&R Block used to carry them too, but I've now heard they aren't either.
PATRON 2: Well poop.
-------------------------
PATRON 3: Do you have W-2 forms?
ME: No, we do not have W-2 forms. You're supposed to receive W-2 forms from your employer, not from the library.
PATRON 3: But THEY told me you would have W-2 forms.
ME: I'm sorry, but we don't. We don't even have federal forms at the moment.
-------------------------
PATRON 4: Do you have tax forms?
ME: We have state forms. We do not have any federal forms.
PATRON 4: Do you know where I can get federal forms?
ME: I've heard the post office has them.
PATRON 4: I just came from the post office. They only have the booklets.
ME: Then, I believe Town-C's library has some. They're closed already, though, so you might try them tomorrow.
-------------------------
PATRON 5: Do you have 1099 forms?
ME: No, we don't have 1099 forms. Nor can we print them from the internet.
PATRON 5: Do you know where I could get one?
ME: I've heard you can get them from LOCALLY OWNED OFFICE EQUIPMENT STORE.
(LATER)
ME: No one will leave me alone about these frickin' 1099 forms!
MRS. A: That's the one we can't print from the internet, right?
ME: Yeah. I hear the Locally Owned Office place has them, but I don't know for sure. Maybe I ought to call them.
(PHONES LOCALLY OWNED OFFICE EQUIPMENT STORE)
ME: Hi, this is JUICE from TRI-METRO library. We've had loads and loads of patrons in here looking for 1099 forms and I've heard that you guys have them. I just wanted to call and find out if that's actually true or if we're just irritating you by sending these folks your way.
LOOES RECEPTIONIST: We used to carry them individually, but we wound up getting stuck with so many of them after tax season that we don't any more. But we can order 1099 forms in 24-form packages for $7 and have them by the next day.
ME: Ah. So we're not irritating you.
LOOES RECEPTIONIST: Oh, no. We have had a lot of calls about 1099s today, though.
ME: Thanks. Bye.
(*CLICK*)
MRS. A: So?
ME: They don't have them on hand but can get a pack of 24 for $7.
(MRS A AND I STARE AT EACH OTHER, THE SAME THOUGHT DAWNING ON US BOTH)
ME: Want to make some money for the library?
MRS. A: You mean buy a box and sell em for $1 each.
ME: Exactly.
MRS. A: Go for it. Call `em back.
-------------------------
PATRON 6: Do you have W-2 forms?
ME: (Trying to remain calm) No, we do NOT have W-2 forms. You're supposed to get those from your employer.
PATRON 6: No. I am an employer. I need blank W-2 forms for my employees.
(Gives patron an eyes at half-mast-long-slow-burn look designed to convey exactly how magnificent they are as an employer that they not only have no clue where to get W-2 forms but are actively trying to get free ones from us)
ME: I'm sorry, but we don't have any.
-------------------------
*RING*
ME: Tri-Metro Public Library.
AMATEUR ACCOUNTANT TAX FORM LADY WHO PLAGUES US EVERY YEAR: Hi, do you have federal forms yet?
ME: Nope. Looks like early February.
AATFLWPUEY: Well do you even have your tax form photocopy binder?
ME: No. We don't have the forms and we don't have the binder.
AATFLWPUEY: Poop. I need lots of copies of really obscure forms.
ME: Well, I could probably find them and print them from the IRS website for you. We do charge ten cents per page.
AATFLWPUEY: You mean, I could give you a list of them and you could print them and I could come pick them up?
ME: And pay for them, yes.
AATFLWPUEY: You'd do that for me?
ME: Sure. It's really slow in here.
AATFLWPUEY: Oh, you're so sweet. I'll need forms 1045, 1045-A, 1174, 1174 SCHEDULE S, 1174-K SCHEDULE HR24, 1040, 1040-A, 1040 H SCHEDULE-SOL, 1048-KNIGHT 2000, 8057, 8057-FU, 8057-YA MOMMA and 2099-DEEZ-NUTZ.
(*CLICK*)
(LIBRARY IMMEDIATELY BECOMES PHENOMENALLY BUSY)
-------------------------
PATRON 7: You got federal forms?
ME: No. February.
PATRON 7: What about the deduction book?
ME: The what?
PATRON 7: The deduction book. The book that lists all the deductions?
ME: You mean the form instruction book?
PATRON 7: No. I want the book that lists all the deductions you're allowed to take.
ME: Ma'am, while I'm sure such a book might exist somewhere, I don't think we've ever had one here. It doesn't sound familiar at all and this is the fourth year I've had to go through all this.
PATRON 7: No, see, it's the deduction book. It lists all the things you can deduct from your taxes.
ME: I understand what you're talking about, ma'am. I'm saying, I don't believe we've ever had one. That sounds like the sort of book accountants and tax preparation agencies would have access to and the library is in NO. WAY. SHAPE. OR. FORM. a tax preparation agency.
(After patron leaves, I rush up to ask Mrs. A about the deduction book, just to find out whether or not I was talking out of my ass. She assures me that I was correct and while such books do exist we do not carry them because doing so tends to reinforce the public's mistaken perception that we are, in fact, some kind of tax preparation and financial advice giving agency. Whew!)
-------------------------
PATRON 1: Do you have tax forms?
ME: We have state forms. We do not have any federal forms. We ordered federal forms late and when we called to find out why they hadn't arrived when they were supposed to we were told by the IRS that the order had not been processed AT ALL. We're now expecting them sometime in early February.
PATRON 1: Do you know where I can get federal forms?
ME: I've heard the post office has them.
-------------------------
PATRON 2: Do you have 1099 forms?
ME: No, we don't have 1099 forms. Nor can we print them from the internet.
PATRON 2: Why not?
ME: Because it's a carbon copy form and when we bring them up from the website the form itself has "Info Copy Only" written across it.
PATRON 2: Do you know where I could get one?
ME: I've heard you can get them from LOCALLY OWNED OFFICE EQUIPMENT STORE, but I don't know that for sure. In fact, last year a man from LOCALLY OWNED OFFICE EQUIPMENT STORE came in here looking for 1099's himself, so maybe they don't. H&R Block used to carry them too, but I've now heard they aren't either.
PATRON 2: Well poop.
-------------------------
PATRON 3: Do you have W-2 forms?
ME: No, we do not have W-2 forms. You're supposed to receive W-2 forms from your employer, not from the library.
PATRON 3: But THEY told me you would have W-2 forms.
ME: I'm sorry, but we don't. We don't even have federal forms at the moment.
-------------------------
PATRON 4: Do you have tax forms?
ME: We have state forms. We do not have any federal forms.
PATRON 4: Do you know where I can get federal forms?
ME: I've heard the post office has them.
PATRON 4: I just came from the post office. They only have the booklets.
ME: Then, I believe Town-C's library has some. They're closed already, though, so you might try them tomorrow.
-------------------------
PATRON 5: Do you have 1099 forms?
ME: No, we don't have 1099 forms. Nor can we print them from the internet.
PATRON 5: Do you know where I could get one?
ME: I've heard you can get them from LOCALLY OWNED OFFICE EQUIPMENT STORE.
(LATER)
ME: No one will leave me alone about these frickin' 1099 forms!
MRS. A: That's the one we can't print from the internet, right?
ME: Yeah. I hear the Locally Owned Office place has them, but I don't know for sure. Maybe I ought to call them.
(PHONES LOCALLY OWNED OFFICE EQUIPMENT STORE)
ME: Hi, this is JUICE from TRI-METRO library. We've had loads and loads of patrons in here looking for 1099 forms and I've heard that you guys have them. I just wanted to call and find out if that's actually true or if we're just irritating you by sending these folks your way.
LOOES RECEPTIONIST: We used to carry them individually, but we wound up getting stuck with so many of them after tax season that we don't any more. But we can order 1099 forms in 24-form packages for $7 and have them by the next day.
ME: Ah. So we're not irritating you.
LOOES RECEPTIONIST: Oh, no. We have had a lot of calls about 1099s today, though.
ME: Thanks. Bye.
(*CLICK*)
MRS. A: So?
ME: They don't have them on hand but can get a pack of 24 for $7.
(MRS A AND I STARE AT EACH OTHER, THE SAME THOUGHT DAWNING ON US BOTH)
ME: Want to make some money for the library?
MRS. A: You mean buy a box and sell em for $1 each.
ME: Exactly.
MRS. A: Go for it. Call `em back.
-------------------------
PATRON 6: Do you have W-2 forms?
ME: (Trying to remain calm) No, we do NOT have W-2 forms. You're supposed to get those from your employer.
PATRON 6: No. I am an employer. I need blank W-2 forms for my employees.
(Gives patron an eyes at half-mast-long-slow-burn look designed to convey exactly how magnificent they are as an employer that they not only have no clue where to get W-2 forms but are actively trying to get free ones from us)
ME: I'm sorry, but we don't have any.
-------------------------
*RING*
ME: Tri-Metro Public Library.
AMATEUR ACCOUNTANT TAX FORM LADY WHO PLAGUES US EVERY YEAR: Hi, do you have federal forms yet?
ME: Nope. Looks like early February.
AATFLWPUEY: Well do you even have your tax form photocopy binder?
ME: No. We don't have the forms and we don't have the binder.
AATFLWPUEY: Poop. I need lots of copies of really obscure forms.
ME: Well, I could probably find them and print them from the IRS website for you. We do charge ten cents per page.
AATFLWPUEY: You mean, I could give you a list of them and you could print them and I could come pick them up?
ME: And pay for them, yes.
AATFLWPUEY: You'd do that for me?
ME: Sure. It's really slow in here.
AATFLWPUEY: Oh, you're so sweet. I'll need forms 1045, 1045-A, 1174, 1174 SCHEDULE S, 1174-K SCHEDULE HR24, 1040, 1040-A, 1040 H SCHEDULE-SOL, 1048-KNIGHT 2000, 8057, 8057-FU, 8057-YA MOMMA and 2099-DEEZ-NUTZ.
(*CLICK*)
(LIBRARY IMMEDIATELY BECOMES PHENOMENALLY BUSY)
-------------------------
PATRON 7: You got federal forms?
ME: No. February.
PATRON 7: What about the deduction book?
ME: The what?
PATRON 7: The deduction book. The book that lists all the deductions?
ME: You mean the form instruction book?
PATRON 7: No. I want the book that lists all the deductions you're allowed to take.
ME: Ma'am, while I'm sure such a book might exist somewhere, I don't think we've ever had one here. It doesn't sound familiar at all and this is the fourth year I've had to go through all this.
PATRON 7: No, see, it's the deduction book. It lists all the things you can deduct from your taxes.
ME: I understand what you're talking about, ma'am. I'm saying, I don't believe we've ever had one. That sounds like the sort of book accountants and tax preparation agencies would have access to and the library is in NO. WAY. SHAPE. OR. FORM. a tax preparation agency.
(After patron leaves, I rush up to ask Mrs. A about the deduction book, just to find out whether or not I was talking out of my ass. She assures me that I was correct and while such books do exist we do not carry them because doing so tends to reinforce the public's mistaken perception that we are, in fact, some kind of tax preparation and financial advice giving agency. Whew!)
Monday, January 19, 2004
Dearth and Taxes
It's not even April yet, but tax season has begun at the "liberry".
Soon as the new year hits, our tax forms go out and we gotta find space
for them.
For the past two years, the tax forms have had a home atop one of our three-foot high floor shelves positioned directly in front of the front door of the library. We did this on the theory that when tax-form-seeking people walk through the door, they should be able to immediately note the tax forms and go right to them without having to bother anyone (i.e. me) with asking where they are. Barring that, they should notice the giant yellow sign we have always placed there directing their attention to the tax forms.
For the past two years, this theory has never... EVER... worked.
No patron has ever managed to notice the sign nor the forms despite their incredibly obvious position. Instead, they walk in the door, practically walking into the forms themselves in the process, then completely overlook them in favor of marching up to the desk where they ask the question we grow to dread and which becomes grounds for an ass whuppin' come April 13, "Do you got tax forms here?" This is when we raise a hand and point over their shoulder at the tax forms directly behind them in front of the door. The patrons then blush and look deservedly embarrassed at their entire lack of observation skills, collect their forms and depart.
This situation leads to many fun patron impersonations that we in the library staff engage in when patron's aren't around to hear us. They go something like this...
"Uhhh, hey! I'm pawin' through all yer tax forms, here, which took me half an hour to find cause I somehow didn't manage to trip over them when walkin' in the front door, even though they're right there in front of ya, with a big ol' arrow pointed at them and a yella billboard for a sign, an' I jest don't see the State of Georgia 1028-C form for color-blind arc-welders who's mothers didn't love them. You got one of them? I want the short form, now, y'hear!"
Fun.
This year, we've moved the forms. Instead of putting them directly in front of the door with big signs, which has never ever worked, we moved the forms across the room, atop a completely different floor shelf, with plenty of stuff blocking any direct line of sight of them from the door, including a support beam, and we have no signs whatsoever.
Where do you think people now habitually look for tax forms when they walk in the door? That's right, atop the floor shelf directly in front of the door where they are quite obviously NOT AT and where we have been practically begging people to look for them for the past umpteen years!!!!
For the past two years, the tax forms have had a home atop one of our three-foot high floor shelves positioned directly in front of the front door of the library. We did this on the theory that when tax-form-seeking people walk through the door, they should be able to immediately note the tax forms and go right to them without having to bother anyone (i.e. me) with asking where they are. Barring that, they should notice the giant yellow sign we have always placed there directing their attention to the tax forms.
For the past two years, this theory has never... EVER... worked.
No patron has ever managed to notice the sign nor the forms despite their incredibly obvious position. Instead, they walk in the door, practically walking into the forms themselves in the process, then completely overlook them in favor of marching up to the desk where they ask the question we grow to dread and which becomes grounds for an ass whuppin' come April 13, "Do you got tax forms here?" This is when we raise a hand and point over their shoulder at the tax forms directly behind them in front of the door. The patrons then blush and look deservedly embarrassed at their entire lack of observation skills, collect their forms and depart.
This situation leads to many fun patron impersonations that we in the library staff engage in when patron's aren't around to hear us. They go something like this...
"Uhhh, hey! I'm pawin' through all yer tax forms, here, which took me half an hour to find cause I somehow didn't manage to trip over them when walkin' in the front door, even though they're right there in front of ya, with a big ol' arrow pointed at them and a yella billboard for a sign, an' I jest don't see the State of Georgia 1028-C form for color-blind arc-welders who's mothers didn't love them. You got one of them? I want the short form, now, y'hear!"
Fun.
This year, we've moved the forms. Instead of putting them directly in front of the door with big signs, which has never ever worked, we moved the forms across the room, atop a completely different floor shelf, with plenty of stuff blocking any direct line of sight of them from the door, including a support beam, and we have no signs whatsoever.
Where do you think people now habitually look for tax forms when they walk in the door? That's right, atop the floor shelf directly in front of the door where they are quite obviously NOT AT and where we have been practically begging people to look for them for the past umpteen years!!!!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)