Anything Lime



Unexcitedly star struck at H&R Block

If a piece of Denzel Washington and a piece of Morgan Freeman could be ground up and thrown into a mixer, and the mixture could then be brought to life, molded like silly putty into a human being and given organs and a soul, that’s the man who did my taxes yesterday.

Although, I must admit, for being part Denzel (and having his exact vocal cords!) and another part Morgan, I was rather disappointed with his performance. Not that he didn’t do a good job with my taxes, but I was half expecting him to dive sideways out of his cubicle, bravely throwing his body in front of mine while some mobsters were crazily driving by the building shooting out the glass in all of the front windows. The whole time he was filling out all the miscellaneous tax forms I was looking around his tiny space wondering where he stashed his gun, secret gadgets, his pack of smokes and some random sentimental thing such as an old picture folded into quarters or a letter that says nothing but, “I promise.”

The experience, as you can imagine, was much less intense. I didn’t cry even one time, although I was awfully close when he told me that I would be getting back ALL of my withholdings, which was when I became a bigger fan of this Denzorgan Washreeman hybrid superstar.

I called yesterday morning to schedule an appointment for my lunch break. I was quoted that it would take 30-40 minutes, which worked out perfectly for me. It didn’t take 30 minutes. It didn’t take 40 minutes. It didn’t take 50 or 60 or 70 minutes. It took 85 minutes. Blast.

I got there 10 minutes before my appointment, and my tax filer, we’ll call him by his initials, SJ, (no, not Samuel L. Jackson, but very close!) welcomed me, very slowly, to his place of business. He was a slow talker and a quiet talker, but we had a good time. Our conversations went something like this.

“Oh. … Ball State. … Yeah. …”

“Yep. Ball State!”

“What is it about ol’ Ball State?”

“Um… It’s in the MAC, it’s where David Letterman went to school…”

“I think I knew a guy or two who attended Ball State. … Yeah. I knew a few guys who went there. … good school. … You like it?”

“I loved it!”

“Oh, that’s great. … so what is it with this Muncie? … I can’t remember what it is, but there’s something funny about Muncie. …Hmm… what is it? …Oh well, I can’t remember. …I just know there’s something funny about it.”

“Garfield, maybe? Jim Davis, the creator of Garfield lives in Muncie.”

“Oh, Garfield! … I got some of those old Garfield cartoons at home. …I would never throw them away..”

This went on for a few minutes before we returned to tax business. While waiting for the computer (a slow PC) to load, he looks at me and says, “Did he pass?”

“Who?”

“Jim Henson. … the Garfield guy.”

“Yes, Jim Henson died, but he was the creator of the Muppets. Jim Davis is still alive and lives in Muncie.”

“Oh, right right right. Yeah. I mixed the two guys up! hahaha… … …”

Yeah, keep laughing, SJ, my taxes will do themselves.

“So, you have the day off today?”

“No, I’m on my lunch break. A long, long, long lunch break.” That’s code for MOVE YOUR ASS MORZEL!

I felt great when the experience was over. It was like meeting someone famous, who wasn’t actually famous but he was the best kept secret in non-famousness and I found him. I would have gotten a picture, but he was freaked out and asked me to leave when I said, “I have to draw you.”

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  1. * Patrick says:

    BEST POST YET! I was in tears with joy and laughter! I love you.

    | Reply Posted 9 years, 7 months ago


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