Thursday, July 3, 2008
Panopticon
I whiled away a hour this afternoon on the IRS hotline, shuffled between three different departments before my call was put, indefinitely, on hold. The greasy handset of the payphone smeared against my ear, I queasily prepared myself for what promised to be endless reiterations of "The Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy." As that flowery waltz embarked upon its 25th repeat, I began to wonder if I'd been had: I imagined the IRS call center funneling all of its enquirers, some slower than others, into a sort of spiral penny gutter, whose gruesome terminus none had lived to report.In my Pekarian dejection, I stood up to stretch my musculature. A paroxysm of blood rushed to my head, threatening to topple me - I groped madly for stability, landing tragically on the flash switch! Flutes and strings ceased, whisking away with them my hopes for proof of non-filing status, in an abject click!
MYW at 8:10 PM
Post a Comment