I'm mad as hell right now.
This year's tax assessments:
House: 62,830 - Up 5%
Adjacent Lot: 70,000 - Up 110%
Commerical: 314,160 - Up 276%
Commercial 2: 64,550 - Up 411%
So I'm going down to the ye olde tax collector. I've estimated that all told, we owe in the ballpark of $8k this year. I go down there and they have a line, as usual. Naturally, I have to wait. The girl punches up the house - and it's been paid by the mortgage company. Yay. So she rings up everything else. $6055.34. I hand her $6100 and then think - hmm. I ask for $100 back, give her a $50, a $5 and rustled up a quarter and a dime from my back pocket.
Bad sign #1: She couldnt figure out how much change I got back.
She proceeds to count money, and visually checks ever $100 I gave her and then gives it to the cashier, who then does the same thing. At this point, I'm less than happy.
I'm walking out the door, get to the car and I get a phone call. It's the title clerk. There's a problem with my registration and my tags. Great! I go BACK in to the tax collector and go to the line. There's a bunch of people in front of me. I go to the dealer section in the back. Of course, theres three windows, no waiting. They don't know what I'm talking about. Back to ye olde rope line.
I address the tag issue with someone and I go home.
I'm filing the reciepts and HOLY ****** WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON.
Apparently, all the taxes today were paid for by a one LATOYA WILLIAMS. Why is this? Because apparently I paid all her taxes! Somewhere inbetween the rope line in the door, I apparently grew a Y chromosome and breasts inbetween the rope line and the cashier.
Now i've got to go BACK for the THIRD TIME in two days because nobody knows how to screw me out of my money better than the government.
This year's tax assessments:
House: 62,830 - Up 5%
Adjacent Lot: 70,000 - Up 110%
Commerical: 314,160 - Up 276%
Commercial 2: 64,550 - Up 411%
So I'm going down to the ye olde tax collector. I've estimated that all told, we owe in the ballpark of $8k this year. I go down there and they have a line, as usual. Naturally, I have to wait. The girl punches up the house - and it's been paid by the mortgage company. Yay. So she rings up everything else. $6055.34. I hand her $6100 and then think - hmm. I ask for $100 back, give her a $50, a $5 and rustled up a quarter and a dime from my back pocket.
Bad sign #1: She couldnt figure out how much change I got back.
She proceeds to count money, and visually checks ever $100 I gave her and then gives it to the cashier, who then does the same thing. At this point, I'm less than happy.
I'm walking out the door, get to the car and I get a phone call. It's the title clerk. There's a problem with my registration and my tags. Great! I go BACK in to the tax collector and go to the line. There's a bunch of people in front of me. I go to the dealer section in the back. Of course, theres three windows, no waiting. They don't know what I'm talking about. Back to ye olde rope line.
I address the tag issue with someone and I go home.
I'm filing the reciepts and HOLY ****** WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON.
Apparently, all the taxes today were paid for by a one LATOYA WILLIAMS. Why is this? Because apparently I paid all her taxes! Somewhere inbetween the rope line in the door, I apparently grew a Y chromosome and breasts inbetween the rope line and the cashier.
Now i've got to go BACK for the THIRD TIME in two days because nobody knows how to screw me out of my money better than the government.
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