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On Dickweeds

April 1, 2010

I am beset on all sides by dickweeds these days. Many, but not all, are employees of the Canada Revenue Agency.

The Agency in question owes me a rather large amount of money. Without getting into specifics, let us say that the total amount is a four-digit number that begins with a 2. Let us say that in 2009 I had extra money deducted from my paycheques and submitted an amendment request to a previous return, with an eye toward receiving a cheque for $2— at a time when I knew I was likely to be in serious need of it, between paying tuition and possibly being unemployed in Vancouver for however many months. My brother employed this same strategy in 2009, and sure enough, two weeks after filing his return last month, he was sitting in front of a new 50″ television.

The $2— is clearly, unarguably mine. All I’m trying to do is get the dickweeds at the CRA to give it to me.

The Canada Revenue Agency has a long and proud history of auditing my tax returns, sending me irrelevant random correspondence to delay paying what they owe me, and generally being dickweeds to a point where I tend to get my tax refunds in the late summer or early fall instead of two weeks after submitting my return, which seems to be the average wait time for people of my acquaintance. I have no idea why the CRA has a problem with me. I’ve never had any money in the first place, and I’m far too ignorant to be dishonest on a return. I have begun to realize recently that in fact, since 2005, I have paid much more tax than I needed to: there were all kinds of deductions I could have claimed had I known to do so. From the government’s standpoint, I am an unusually generous taxpayer with an income consistently beneath the national average. Why they pick on me so relentlessly has been one of the great questions of my life for many years.

In July, I submitted an amendment request for a previous return. I was told it would take 17 weeks to process. So, 17 refund-free weeks later, I called to check the status of the situation. This dickweed told me he couldn’t even tell me whether the gigantic envelope full of documents had been received by his department yet. I asked the dickweed how long it might be until he could confirm that the government had in fact gotten my mail. He told me he had no idea but that they were currently processing requests received in June. Awesome. What a dickweed. “So would it be reasonable to call back in four weeks or so if I still haven’t got my cheque by then?” I asked. “Of course, yes,” said the dickweed. I had hoped to use the money to pay for my move in January. I didn’t think that was an unreasonable theoretical allocation of funds. It would have given the CRA dickweeds five months to process the amendment, and five months is well over 17 weeks. “Call back in mid-December,” said the dickweed. December came and went, chequelessly. I decided to leave the situation alone until I’d moved, because I had enough other shit going on that I didn’t need to be worrying about this shit. I still didn’t know if the dickweeds had even received my envelope. Finally in early January it showed up as received on my online profile. Excellent. Took the dickweeds six months to open that piece of mail. Since January my account has indicated: “Amendment in progress.” I disagree with the use of the word “progress” in this context.

Several months later, it was April 1, 2010. I phoned the CRA dickweeds to inquire about my amendment. This friendly perky dickweed put me on hold for a while and then came back on the line to tell me that he’d looked through my file and couldn’t see any reason for a delay, so he was going to transfer me to another dickweed because he (viz., the friendly perky dickweed) didn’t have any information for me. The next dickweed in the sequence picked up the line and I retold the story of how I submitted this g.d. amendment request in July so where the eff was my cash money dolla dolla billz please. He went into my file and a few seconds later snippily informed me that it hadn’t been processed.

“I know,” I told him. “That’s why I’m calling.”

“Well,” said the dickweed, “right now we’re processing requests submitted in July.” Had the first dickweed not told me in mid-November that they were at that time processing requests submitted in June? Had the June requests taken five months?

“That’s when I submitted mine,” I told the dickweed.

“Well all I can tell you is that it hasn’t been processed yet. When’s the last time you called about this?”

“Four and a half months ago.” Dickweed.

“Well if we haven’t processed it then we aren’t going to have any information for you.”

“Yeah, I just thought that maybe there was some specific reason why it was taking eight months to look at the amended T4 and have a cheque made out. Like maybe there was a problem or you needed further information from me or someone else.” Dickweed dickweed dickweed! Cinnamon cocks!!

“Nope, everything looks fine. We just haven’t processed it yet.”

Augh! Dickweed, I completely agree with both of those statements! That’s exactly why I’m calling! Dickweed!

I’ve worked in customer service, and I know how bullshitty it is to be treated like garbage by someone who considers it appropriate to blame you for a problem or a policy that has absolutely nothing to do with you and that you are not in a position to do anything about. I am sugar and honey when I talk to CRA people. I accidentally got snippy with one once and afterward I apologized about a hundred times to a point where she was actually laughing at me. I’m sure the dickweeds are nice people with nice wives and nice kids and stuff, but every time I talk to them it’s delays and excuses and a complete lack of information. From my standpoint there’s something very dickweedy about the CRA’s relationship with me and I’m extremely tired of it.

I just want my money. I’ve been unemployed for three months. I need it. It’s mine. I shouldn’t have to wait a year for the amendment money and I shouldn’t have to wait and wait for my 2009 refund and the dicks are growing rampant in the garden of my mind. Dickweed–it’s impossible, you can pull it but the roots always cling tenaciously to the soil and then a week later the dickweed is even thicker and taller than it was when you tried to pull it out initially.

“Dickweed.” Nobody uses that word anymore. Why not? I’m bringing it back.

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