My dad always loved wearing a hat. The problem was that he picked the most ridiculous ones imaginable. No telling where he got this stupid looking thing, but he wore it proudly for a while.
The photo was taken when he was 40 years-old and in the picture he is holding the ever-present bottle of beer. I assume that he was about half in the bag.
My dad got a letter from the state of Arizona this week informing him that they had overtaxed his Air Force pension income for the year 1985 and that they would be refunding the overage, plus interest, a total of $295. There was an 800 number to call and paperwork to file if you disagreed with the amount the state said thet owed you.
I got the check yesterday, made out to my dad. Since I couldn't cash the thing, I called the 800 number to tell them that he had died and to ask what to do. The lady who answered said that they were getting a lot of calls about the recipients being dead. Her suggestion was to take it to my bank and ask if I could deposit it into my account. If and only when they said no, could I send it in, along with the probate information, and get it reissued in the name of a live person.
In my dad's case there should not have been a question, since his last tax return was for that of a person who died before filing and included the paperwork from the probate court. They issued his refund check in my name, not his. Maybe they think he came back to life or something.
It probably should have occurred to the state that many of the people they were sending refunds to, would be dead now. After all, this was a tax on pensions from twenty-two years ago. Instead they sent the check to the last known address of the recipient. Since I filed my dad's taxes two years ago it came here.
The Lovely Mrs. Sneed had to go to her counseling gig today and I am in charge of collecting and entertaining Sneedlet One, until she gets home. She drove the Sneed family junkster and left her car for me, since it has the Sneedlet One car seat in it. My plan was to go to the bank and then pick up the kid.
I drove to the bank and asked if I could deposit the check into my account. No go. When I got back to the car, I was pleased to discover that the car battery was dead. The bank is located across the street from a battery place, but I had no tools to remove the dead battery or to install a new one. Luckily, our oldest son came to my rescue and drove me home to get a few tools.
I noticed a sign on the door of the battery place that they needed full-time employees, to work at this location. This has several very appealing features for a guy with no real ambition. They are closed evenings and Sundays and it is within walking distance of Casa Sneed and they sell batteries. How hard could that be?
I asked the guy behind the counter about the sign and he said that I should talk to the manager, because they really needed two new employees. I bought the new battery, popped it in the car and I headed back to the store to turn in my dead battery. I also took that opportunity to talk to Terry, the manager.
You may not know this, but managers of retail stores are frequently power-crazed jerks. I am not prepared to call Terry a jerk, but he definitely gave off an air of self-importance.
I told him that I saw his sign and since I was was thinking of retiring, and because I lived in the neighborhood, I thought this was right up my alley. I asked if he would consider hiring a retired guy. He replied that regretfully both jobs were filled. He invited me to fill out an application, because things open up all the time and this is important, he will hire anyone who can do the job. He felt it necessary to add that.
I am the first to acknowledge that battery sales is a young person's game and that standing behind a counter and looking up batteries on a computer is challenging and ever-changing, but I think I'm up to it.
"Welcome to Battery Emporium, how may I help you?" Hell, I can do this.
Evening update:
I checked back at the Battery Emporium at 7:00 pm local time and the store was closed but that wacky Terry still hadn't removed his sign.
Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgmental and cranky
Tag: Daily Life
Personal Finance
Humor
2 comments:
Terry just wants to boss younger folks around, he can use that "I'm older and wiser" sneer.
On you, that would not work, so he lied. He's a liar right off the bat, so you can just imagine what other flaws would unfold if you worked for him...
You could sue. I'd keep my eye on Terry (age discrimination lawsuits are all the rage these days)
Let's all sue Terry.
Post a Comment