My friend, Birdshot, is between a rock and another rock. This is his story: " A couple of weeks ago, Bulletproof asked me, 'Have you heard from the IRS yet?'
'Not lately,' I replied.
'Well, when you do, please don't fight them. If you do, I could be in some serious trouble. I'll give you the $150 each month that they want to take from your Social Security check.'
I knew this would not happen because Bulletproof had told me the same thing last February when the IRS took almost $150 from my less-than-average Social Security check. An average check is around $1,100 I believe. In February, I told her what the IRS did to my check, and she said, 'I'm sorry. I'll pay you $150.' But she never did, and the next time we sat down together, she started carping about all the bills she paid, indirectly pointing out that I paid for nothing but my food and gasoline. I couldn't diagree with her for she has been very generous with me although frequently making sarcastic remarks about my dependence. Learning to buy and cook my own food has been a godsend for in the past I would never know what time she would get home. When she did, she only cooked food for me. By buying and cooking, I have much more control over an important part of my life -eating.
Bulletproof didn't explain what the 'serious trouble' she could get into was, but I think it is obvious that since I haven't signed a joint tax refund in over fifteen years, she might be in trouble for signing my name. But how righteous can the Social Security get about Bulletproof signing my name to earnings that are all hers? Look at what they're doing -stealing our money for financial programs the President and Congress want to have for other people. I haven't worked since 1997 when we moved to Florida. Bulletproof told me that if I would move here so she could take a six figure job as the General Manager of a regional advertising agency, I could do whatever I wanted to. Having suffered from panic attacks whenever I had to speak in public and whenever I sat down at a conference table with other people since I was in college, I was delighted to be able to stop working. In retrospect, I wished I had let the people I worked with know my problems so adjustments like joining Toastmasters and sitting near doors could possibly have been made.
But that agreement we made was soon forgotten once we moved to Florida.'
