Thursday, May 29, 2008

Wanted: Dead or Alive

I was editing pages when the operator called my extension.

"Una, there are some IRS agents here to see you."

Now, I paid my taxes and I make bubkus, so I have no reason to fear the IRS, but my blood ran cold anyway. I imagined being carted away in handcuffs. I contemplated jumping out the window and going on the lam. To bide time, I stalled. "Um, what? I didn't hear you."

"There are some IRS agents looking for you," she repeated, slowly, as if explaining water to Helen Keller.

I walked up to the front desk totally prepared to see the Feds, who, in my imagination, looked like the Blues Brothers, but more sinister. So imagine my surprise--not to mention stomach-clenching relief--when, upon turning the corner, I saw my old co-workers, Nick and Logan, bearing impish grins.

The great thing about a trick like that is that it makes the person incredibly happy to see you. They might vomit though, so take precautions.

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