Grandad and the ATO

[looseplucker]

The ATO decided to audit Grandad, and summons him to their office.

The auditor was not surprised when Grandad turned up with his solicitor.

The auditor said, 'Well, sir, you have an extravagant lifestyle and no full-time employment, Which you explain by saying that you win money gambling. I'm not sure the ATO finds that believable.'

I'm a great gambler, and I can prove it,' says Grandad. 'How about a demonstration?'

The auditor thinks for a moment and said, 'Okay. Go ahead.'

Grandad says, 'I'll bet you a thousand dollars that I can bite my own eye.'

The auditor thinks a moment and says, 'It's a bet.'

Grandad removes his glass eye and bites it. The auditor's jaw drops.

Grandad says, 'Now, I'll bet you two thousand dollars that I can bite my other eye.'

Now the auditor can tell Grandad isn't blind, so he takes the bet.

Grandad removes his false teeth and bites his good eye.

The stunned auditor now realizes he has wagered and lost three grand, with Grandad's solicitor as a witness. He starts to get nervous.

'Want to go double or nothing?' Grandad asks 'I'll bet you six thousand dollars that I can stand on one side of your desk, and pee into that wastebasket on the other side, and never get a drop anywhere in between.'

The auditor, twice burned, is cautious now, but he looks carefully and decides there's no way this old guy could possibly manage that stunt, so he agrees again.

Grandad stands beside the desk and unzips his pants, but although he strains mightily, he can't make the stream reach the wastebasket on the other side, so he pretty much piddles all over the auditor's desk.

The auditor leaps with joy, realizing that he has just turned a major loss into a huge win.

But Grandad's own solicitor moans and puts his head in his hands.

'Are you okay?' the auditor asks.

'Not really,' says the solicitor. 'This morning, when Grandad told me he'd been summoned for an audit, he bet me twenty-five thousand dollars that he could come in here and pee all over your desk and that you'd be happy about it'

[otis.drum]

i like it

[Gringa Bows]

[jape]

Oh mate, after my morning at VicRoads arguing with female Hitlers registering my motorbike I needed that! thankyou, thankyou thankyou.

[looseplucker]

I am currently writing up a story called "How I ruined Christmas for a tax official" - its true - happened a few years back and the poor sod ended up on stress leave.

[pdccr]

[dawallace45]

John

I've got to hear this one

David

[looseplucker]

OK

Again, a true story - just jazzed up a bit (I actually wrote it all down when it happened and the conversations are pretty much how it went on) - but a cautionary tale - when dealing with petty officials, play their game and then let sheer animal rat cunning take over. You will not prevail against City Hall with force of arms.

Except for the guilty party (who needs to burn in Hell) a name here and there has been changed.

Towards the end of Law School a system of fees was brought in called the Higher Education Contribution Scheme or HECS. And you were charged fees which became payable through the tax system once you graduated and joined the rat race.

I put in my tax one year, as you do and then received a bill (my first HECS bill - I was so proud) from the tax office for $1000 or so - payable by Christmas, or else. Anyhow I contacted the tax office and said I couldn't stump up one big one in a single hit, so how about instalments. Well, friends, they were agreeable and I paid $100 per fortnight, without attracting the usurious penalty interest that the tax people are so fond of charging and went about my business as a junior attorney, part time banjo player and sometime ladies man.

This continued more or less until tax time the following year. Now you will have noticed that the tax people were sending out bills, and you had to arrange payment off your own bat. It would have been far more efficient, one would assume, to have a system of direct debit on a pay as you earn basis - a bit like pay per view, but without the wobbly bits.

The bill came to $1100 this time around. We're 2 weeks from Christmas. "No biggie" I mused and phone the tax office, and it was then I made the acquaintance of a thoroughly nasty, pompous, forked tongued little git called Geoffrey - who will be known in this story by his full name - Geoffrey the Snot.

"How can I help you?" the aforesaid Mr Snot said in tones indicating quite clearly it was his life's mission to be as obstructive as possible without, for instance, being a kidney stone.

I explained that I had received a bill and would like to make arrangements to pay it.

"That's very nice of you Sir" he sneered, stymied for the moment to demonstrate his awesome cosmic power. "Could I have your number please - you do have it handy?"

He was talking about my tax file number, which, due to military training I had memorized - the same way one memorizes ones service number to avoid an unexpected dose of pushups.

I recited my number, and your man makes me repeat it 3 times as I was going too fast. Clearly he was warming to his work.

There was a tapping indicative of someone entering something into a computer.

"Here we are Sir, yes, I have your records in front of me". He sounded triumphant at the achievement. "How may we help?"

I explained I had received a bill and would like to pay it under the same arrangements as the previous year. There is a pause and a silence which I didn't like the sound of.

"That will not be possible, Sir" he advised, with a light laugh that did little to mask the malicious delight he was taking in the process.

"Why not?"

"Because of Taxruling124ASD45^~//>:(a)(i):vii" he said very quickly, or words to that effect.

"What?"

He repeated it slower, and in the manner that one adopts when mildly admonishing an erring child. Or a dog.

"Hang on a sec, pal" I said and tapped the ruling into my computer.

Now back then I worked for the ACT Government Solicitor's Office - Territory organisaton, not to be confused with the Australian Government Solicitor, who were very big bugs indeed. This is a very important point, so take notes. I was, to all intents and purposes, a member of Reserve Grade.

I read the ruling and asked what the issue was.

"Sir, that ruling states quite clearly that if we have assisted you get your affairs in order in one year we will not do it again"

"True, but this is not a case of getting affairs in order. You sent me a bill last year, I paid by instalments - as asked by your office, paid all on time, no penalties etc - this is your system, my affairs are in order".

"We are assisting you pay a bill"

"That you sent"

"That you incurred"

"Because someone changed the law - but that does not put my affairs out of order. And indeed that ruling is for those who have defaulted on tax and circumstances completely different to this. It is quite clear on that point"

"Regrettably my interpretation does not accord with yours Sir". His voice trailed away. Time to muscle up.

"Alright mate - tell you what, either you accept the money by instalments or I will be down at the Magistrates Court, I will file a confession of debt and make immediate application for an instalment order."

"You can't do that"

"Listen to me you snotty nosed b*stard - I can and I will. The tax office have got some extraordinary powers, but you have not, as yet, prevented access to the courts. And something else, your name is going to be all over the supporting documentation".

"Sir, I am going to speak with my supervisors and get another opinion". Slight edge of tension in his voice this time. No government employee likes their name in court documents. Note for file.

"You do that an call me back within the hour, or down to court I go". Bang went my telephone and I went for a coffee.

Anyhow, Lord Snot duly calls back. He is dripping with smugness and unctuous arrogance - emphasizing every third syllable - but essentially giving me the bad news, and enjoying himself immensely. He was right, I was wrong and that was the end of the matter.

"So we look forward to your cheque Sir" he said mockingly.

"We'll see", I said and we parted company.

After thinking swearingly for some time I thought "This is not going to stand. I need to go over his head, but how....". See, even in the 1990s you could only use a couple of numbers and if I phoned the general debt recovery number I would get Snot or one of his fellow cave dwellers. I also figured that if I phoned the general line I would get flicked there anyhow. I needed a good cover. What to do - then an evil plot hatched. I couldn't lie, but I could be, shall we say, economical with the truth. I looked up the number for the National Office, dialled it and when it was answered said in my most serious voice:

"This is John Taylor from the Government Solicitors Office" (note I did not specifiy which) "I would like to speak with the manager of the debt recovery team.

"Certainly Mr Taylor, putting you through" Shazam, I was in!

A nice bloke called Peter McKenzie answered the phone and within 30 seconds my cover was blown but he listened to my story and was furious.

"Those stupid b*stards" he vouchsafed "They've been told time without number that the ruling does not apply to your circumstances. God Help Us!"

We chatted for a while and he ventured that he was busy that afternoon, but he would have a fellow called Robert Pullman call me, who should be able to help out. He also gave me Mr Pullman's direct line. Which was nice.

Robert duly called - no introductions - very amiable and easy going just said he'd looked at my file and it was all in order - and I could pay by instalments - and I was to tell Geoffrey that.

So, armed with this I phoned the debt line. It was Geoffrey the Snot again. I explained to him that I had made enquiries and that Robert Pullman had said I could pay by instalments.

Geoffrey was appalled and appeared to draw himself up to his full height of 4'2". "Who", he thundered (to the extent one can thunder in a high pitched voice - gee he was cross) "Who is Robert Pullman?"

"I don't know, Sunshine, he's one of your lot. Here is his number - call him if you like"

"I certainly will". And he hung up.

I heard nothing further for a couple of hours, and understandably anxious to give the tax office my money, I gave Robert a call. Something seemed to have amused him greatly.

"Robert, its John Taylor here - what news"

"I've just been talking to your friend Geoffrey", he was laughing somewhat.

"What happened?"

"Well, he phoned me up and demaned, in no uncertain terms, who the hell I thought I was approving a pay by instalments in relation to that ruling"

"So what happened?"

"I told him who I was".

"Actually Robert, I have no idea who you are, I hacked my way in, remember?"

"Yeah, well, I am the Australian National Manager of Debt Recovery" - a demi-God - he probably wrote the ruling - how did Geoffrey not know?

"Ohhh, OK. So what did Geoffrey say?"

"Well, nothing, there were some noises like he was opening and closing his mouth and I gave him a serve or two, kicked his ar*e and then the line went dead"

Well, Robert gave me the name of a bloke who could fix me up and we that was it - invited me to call him back if there were any dramas - he had said the way had been cleared by him personally. Clearly he had thoroughly enjoyed himself. Geoffrey, of course, had had his fun, but it came to a premature end.

I called the number I had been given. I introduced myself.

"Gday mate, we've heard ALL about you. Sh*t I'm sorry, I didn't know you were a friend of Robert Pullman's"

"Well, I am now - can we sort out this debt please?"

And we did - as we parted company I asked after Geoffrey the Snot.

"Oh him, actually you've done us a favour - nasty little t*rd that bloke. He has gone off on indefinite sick leave - got off the phone to Robert and nearly puked into his wastepaper basket. No-one likes him around here, so, thanks very much for what you did to the b*stard".

Sometimes I think about Geoffrey, and, as God is my witness, I am not a cruel man, but when I think of what he must have gone through and how Christmas must have been....well, serves him bloody right.

[jape]

I think it is quite disgusting that you used sophistry, deception, cronyism and influence to pervert the natural course of Injustice. I find a good old-fashioned poppet or sacrifice to a minor demon does the same job without tying up the time of very Busy and Important Government Officials that should otherwise be gainfully occupied dealing with Higher Orders Of Hell on Earth.