7-5-21 - Tax Holiday

 Tax Holiday

IDEA - 7-5-21

by

Patrick Ryan

Everyone got a break this year because "the tax collector," the personification of taxes, is on vacation. Nobody knows where the tax collector has gone or when they will return. Everyone is talking about the fact that no one has to pay taxes this year! It's cause for celebration, with a few extra dollars in your pocket, depending on your bracket.

On the night of the announcement, there were a few celebrations, but most people just went about their lives, except for a lonely accountant named Michael. He's ruined as he sits at his desk, his head in his hands. Micheal sits at his desk, looking at a picture of his family; his wife recently lost her job, his son Bobby needs braces, and his daughter, Sally, has tuition to private school due at the end of the month. Typically, around this time, he'd be inundated with customers, a waiting room full of old receipts, charitable givings, and falsified evidence attempting to prove that trip to Turks and Caicos is, in fact, a deduction due to a zoom call taken on the beach while sipping a Mai Tai.

What caused this to happen? There are only two certainties in life, and Michael invested his entire life in one of them.  Self-pity quickly turns to rage.

"The tax collector can't take a vacation!"

Michael pulled himself up and marched out of his empty office, determined to find the tax collector and drag him back to work where he belonged. Michael's quest was not well received. Many people tried to talk him out of it, advising him to postpone it until next year. Even his wife tried to persuade him that there are other ways to make a living and that he shouldn't waste his time looking for someone who no one wants to find.

As Michael began to investigate the situation, he discovered that the tax collector, ironically, earns very little money. It took nearly a thousand years for the tax collector to earn enough money to go on vacation. But the question was if the tax collector could go wherever they wanted, where would they go? Michael made some educated guesses, such as the Cayman Islands, where the tax collector is infamous for never visiting. When he arrived, he noticed that the tax collector was nowhere to be found. Michael tried some other tax havens, such as the Bahamas, St. Kitts, and even Dubai, but instead of the tax collector, he only got a bad sunburn.

Months had passed, and Michael was ready to call it quits. Michael's brother-in-law sold insurance, and he had begun to imagine himself doing the same. When he returned, he discovered that the roads had fallen into disrepair, schools had to close due to a lack of salaries, and criminals had the run of the town because the police had been furloughed.

There was a long line of people in front of City Hall, complaining about everything from park closures to undelivered mail. Even the mayor was outside, lamenting the fact that he could no longer spend taxpayer money on discretionary items.

Michael realized something at this point: if the tax collector has been collecting taxes for thousands of years, they would not be going anywhere; they are far too despised to be seen in public.

Michael went over to the Internal Revenue Service building and took the elevator up to the tax collector's office. The tax collector sat at their desk, watching reruns of sitcoms on their computer. Michael confronted the tax collector, saying,

"How could you have done this to us!? We need you now more than ever; what has changed?"

"My feelings have been hurt; a person can only go so long without being appreciated; I've decided to change careers; I'm going to become an actor," the tax collector replied.

"Oh, brother, have you gone on any auditions or been in anything?" Michael inquired.

"No, not yet.  I'm doing prep work," the tax collector explained as they resumed watching Friends on their computer.

"Think of the good times, the refunds, the stimulus checks, and don't forget all the good taxes have done for research and education.  People are lining up at City Hall; everyone is upset that things are falling apart because there are no taxes to pay for things," Michael says.

"Things are really falling apart without me.  Oh, you're just trying to make me smile," the tax collector admits sheepishly.

"I'll make you a deal: if you come back and collect taxes, I'll help you find work as an actor," Michael offers.

"No offense, but if you're going to be my agent, I'll need to see your credentials," the tax collector says.

"Look, my sister-in-law works as a casting director for a local community theater; take it or leave it?" Michael bargains.

"This is the big break I've been looking for; let's do it!" exclaims the tax collector.

Months have passed, and life has returned to normal; all citizens were required to pay back taxes, but the roads have been repaired, schools have reopened, and the police have returned to work. The tax collector, of all things, is playing Miguel de Cervantes in Man of La Mancha on stage. The role they were born to play, a tax collector.