1.09.07

Category: dribblings

conversation this morning:

“are you going to get anything back on your taxes?”

“i dunno. probably? i mean, if we file together, right?”

“what?”

“well i’ve had them take out for single, right? but now we’re married, right? so won’t we file jointly and then get money back?”

“i don’t know. where’s your form?”

“what are you talking about? what form? that thing that came in the mail?”

“…wow. anyway this one is state, where’s the federal one?”

“i don’t think it’s come yet, at least they haven’t come to the library yet.”

“so when you do your taxes-“

“i don’t do my taxes.”

“you don’t?”

“no, i can’t. it’s the one thing i can’t do.”

“the one thing? and don’t you just use the EZ form?”

“look, we can’t talk about this anymore, okay? i can’t talk about taxes.”

“then who does your taxes?”

“….my mommy.”

“what.”

“shut up! i can’t deal with taxes, okay?! i can’t follow the directions BECAUSE I DON’T UNDERSTAND THE WORDS! IT’S ALL IF YOU MADE LESS THAN BLAH BLAH PUT A ZERO OVER HERE AND BLAH BLAH BLAH! AND I COMPLETELY FALL APART.”

“oh, that’s right…”

“don’t-“

“you’re a girl.”

“stop it. i do not speak for women-“

“you don’t have a Y chromosome therefore-“

“watch it-“

“you can’t do math.”

“i can do math! i can do math!” i screech as i hit him.

“you have two X’s where as i have an X AND a Y…”

“F of X is Y! asshole!”

“no, F of your mother is why.”

and that was the funniest math joke ever and i lost it and laughed myself silly.

and i know that i’m a horrible representative of the female sex, and i do apologize to all my lady peers who are very good at math and who do not fall apart over taxes.
wait, i mean, i can do math. i mean, i can’t figure out acoustical formulas for sound waves or anything, but i can do the basics. my checkbook is fair and balanced! i can figure out sales tax and gratuity! FOIL method! FOIL method! LONG DAMN DIVSION!

but that income tax thing…it would be like watching a zombie stare at something for a long time. and then when you tried to help the zombie it turns into an 8 year old brat.
“jaimie, you’ve been looking at that form for hours.”

“uhhhhhng. braaaaains.”

“here, why don’t we start by putting your name-“

“I CAN’T DO IT! LEAVE ME ALONE! I HATE YOU!”

***

OSU lost. what a bunch of effin’ loosas.

the library gig is still cool. i’m not even bummed that i’ve got to work on saturday. dad came in yesterday and was being dad.
“hey, y’all teach any readin’ lessons?”
“hee, dad…”
“seriously though, where’s the Foxfire books?”
“erm….975FOX…you see the Oprah poster over there…it’s on the shelf to the left.”

so he comes back a minute later with a book. i check it out to him and ask, “so…you’re going to learn how to…dress a hog?”

“nope, kevin and i are going to make a whiskey still.”

“…i’m so glad you said that out loud in front of my new co-workers.”

“well, it’s kevin that wants to do it. but he’s doing the right thing; he’s asking the sheriff for permission first.”

“and he thinks he’ll get permission?”

“yeah. i think you’re allowed to make so many gallons for yourself. you can’t sell it.”

“maybe in 1963, dad.”

“no i really think you can make it if you have permission.”

” *sigh* only in alabama…and mountainous parts of kentucky i bet.”

meanwhile jan comes up (cos she knows dad) and says, “jaimie, is this man bothering you?”

so i say, “security! i need this man escorted out of the library! i’m sorry sir, but we don’t have those kinds of books here.”

we all laugh and dad goes into squidbilly mode, “aw sure! you brang ’em city boys on! i’ll whoop ’em. like ah ain’t been kicked outta library before?”

since we were joking the whole time he was in there i hope the other ladies thought the moonshine thing was a joke too.
it wasn’t, of course. we actually ARE the squidbillies.

**

the other day at work i was thinking about how finally, after all these years (since 7th grade. yes, i know, dream big, jaimie.) i get to work at the library. hot dog! but then i remembered that hey, didn’t i write a weekly about how i should never work at the library because i’ll become a dominatrix? um, yes. i guess it was 3 years ago i wrote about that very thing. (laura, that graphic kills me. you’re the bomb.)
things to note: i was writing about the GPL and i’m not sure any of the same people work there…in fact, it seems like every time i’m in there it’s teenagers working. so the whole “dry, crusty librarian” thing does not apply anymore. plus they rebuilt the GPL, and i’m certain they tiled over all the secret tunnels.
the dirty bastards.

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