lesson 22: sometimes your pain is on the wall of fame

"What, is this back to the 'poor me wahwahwah' thing?"

"Nope. It's all about Revenue Canada."

"What?"

"Well, I had a job working at taxation in Revenue Canada."

"Ew."

"Nah, actually it was a good summer job. But we were registering Canadian companies for a new tax. So some unpleasant conversations ensued."

"I can imagine. So what did you do?"

"Outside of calling people who regarded my calls as pleasant as a dentist who pulls teeth without anesthetic?"

"Uh. Yeah. I guess so."

"I spent the morning sorting new mail from those who actually filled in the forms."

"Oh. Well that sounds boring."

"Actually, no. The Canadian feeling surrounding this particular tax was particularly grim and people got beautifully imaginative in filling in their forms. In fact, the best part of the day was reading through the the more butchered forms and voting on which was the best candidate for the wall of fame."

"The wall of fame?"

"Yeah, the truly creative forms got framed in our mail room."

"You've got to be kidding me. That seems a bit... erm... mean."

"No way, total respect to those showing the finger to the man."

"I can't believe you just said that. You sound..."

"Yeah yeah. No. We loved those mails. Not only for their guts, but also for their balls."

"Nice mental image, oh eloquent one. Wall of fame eh?"

"Yep. They got to be the center of our universe. If only for a moment."

"Nice tie in to the last post. Weird 'lesson' though: there are those who delight in your frustration."

"Thanks. It brings me comfort."