The Income Tax
(June 23, 2008)
(with special guest joke writer, Mike McCann)

“Interest, Suzy?”
“No, this is really boring.”

“RSPs?”
“R-S-Ps?”
“I’ll take that as a no.”

“Charity?”
“Yes please.”

“Oh, Suzy – this isn’t going to be easy.”

Things were not going well with my tax accountant. Apparently one is suppose to earn savings on bank accounts, contribute to registered retirement savings plans and donate to charity but I ask you this “Where is the tax credit for Gucci sunglasses? Where?”

“Here’s your tax return.”
“How much do I get? Suzy needs a new pair of shoes.”

He turned his monitor to my eager eyes.
“Eleven dollars! That’s it! I can’t even buy a Holt Renfrew shoelace for $11 let alone my new shoes! I’m only getting $11!”

“No.”
“You mean there is still a chance I’m getting more?”
“No, I mean you owe eleven dollars.”
“Next you’ll tell me I owe you $10 for doing my taxes.” (This joke written by Mike McCann)

“Oh, and you owe me $20 for doing your taxes.”
“Umm….”
“And based on seeing your finances, I refuse to accept a cheque.”

As I left my accountant’s building, I was approached by a man with a straw hat.

“Miss, I can see from your expression that your visit to the accountant did not go well. The tax man got you down?”

I nodded.

“That’s the government for you – always looking for ways to stick it to you. Always sliding on an angle – them sliding up, you sliding down. You know they don’t even tell you how to avoid the tax – make you pay an accountant just to figure it out, yes they do.”

I concurred with his straw hat beliefs.

“And, Miss, don’t get me started on RSPs. Sure you pay no taxes on it now… but wait till you retire. Then when you want to use your savings to survive – bam – there’s the tax man banging at your retirement villa taking your money.”

“Really?”

“For sure Miss – not that you have to worry about that for sixty years but yes, there’ll be waiting at your door. And when the Grim Reaper arrives to take you to your final resting place, you know who pushes him out of the way?”

“Who?”

“The tax-man. Gotta get that inheritance tax too. Did you know the inheritance tax means you actually pay taxes after you are dead! Can you believe it?”

“Inheritance tax! Death tax is more like it!” (This joke written by Mike McCann)

“Am I right or am I right?”
“Man with the straw hat, you are right but what I can I do? They’ve got me. I’m just an extremely pretty girl with great charisma.”

“You get them where it hurts them most.”
“I’m not into the whole terrorist suicide bomber martyr mayhem thing…”

“No, I mean you hit them where it hurts the most – their pocketbook. All we do is rearrange your tax return to take advantage of the uncommon tax breaks.”

“We?”
“For sure we. I’m going to share with you the solution to your tax problems.”

“Oh, I’m not interested in committing a crime… today.”
“No crime, Miss, it’s completely legit.”

“You see, Aboriginals get a tax break – a big tax break.”
“That’s great but I’m not an aboriginal.”
“But you could be!”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’m not.”

“Follow me behind those bushes and I’ll show you how you can become an Aboriginal.”

I have a common practice not to follow men with straw hats behind bushes but I was so perturbed by the tax man, that I followed him. Besides, I really wanted to get my new shoes.

“Voila, your pathway to Aboriginal status!”

There behind the bushes, next to the man with the straw hat was a man in horrible stereotypical aboriginal fashion.

“This is my Aboriginal friend.”

“For a small fee, my friend here will adopt you – thus making you – technically – an Aboriginal. As an Aboriginal, you will be eligible for all the Aboriginal tax breaks.”

“I don’t know, man with the straw hat.”

“Think of it – with my friend as your father, you’d have native status and thus you would never have to pay tax again…. Ever!”

“Ever?”

“Imagine, no tax on gas. No tax on liquour. No sales tax on any sort – furniture, cars, shoes. Nothing – all tax free.”

“Did you say shoes?”

“Yes Miss, I sure did. Look at your shoes – Gucci is it? Well, don’t you deserve two pairs of Gucci shoes?”
“Well, two is an understatement.”
“Well, now you can afford them because you don’t have to pay tax.”

It was an interesting concept – me with many pairs of Gucci shoes. And all I had to do was become adopted.

“Do I have to live with your friend?”
“No Miss, adults do not have to live with their parents do they? Why should you?”

“Do I have to live on a reserve?”
“No, the government can’t tell you where to live.”

I looked at the racist dressed friend of the man in the straw hat.
“He looks to be about the same age as me.”
“Adoption laws do not have age restrictions.”

I looked down at my feet and imagined my new shoes.
“Can I have a moment alone with your friend?”

“For sure Miss, for sure. I’ll just be on the other side of the bush there. When you are ready, we’ll dot all the I’s and cross all the T’s. As you know, the tax man is all about paperwork.”

The man with the straw hat jumped through the bush.

“So what is your name?”
The man removed his head dress.

“It’s Ernie.”
“Are you really aboriginal?”
“I’m going to level with you. No, I’m not.”
“So this is just a scam?”

“No, the adoption thing is a real.”
“But if you aren’t aboriginal then how can that be?”

The man with the straw hat is aboriginal.”
“Really, but his skin colour…”
“Shame on you - it’s not the skin colour that makes you aboriginal. Look at me; I’m not a bit aboriginal. I’m as white as Hillary Clinton but I tan amazingly.”

“Then why the head dress and the horrible stereotypical aboriginal outfit?”
“I tried to remember, based upon my years of television watching, what an aboriginal looked liked. All I could remember was Oka, drunkenness and Tonto. I figured an armed man or drunk wouldn’t get the man with the straw hat much business, so I dressed as Tonto. It’s so sad television portrays natives in such a negative fashion.”

“Why are you doing this?”
“I needed an extra job to pay off my income tax bill. Apparently there is something called an RSP that could have offset that. Who knew?”

I concurred with Ernie's statement.

“Besides I really want this pair of Birkenstocks at the Holt Renfrew.”