Skip to main content

Money Baby

                  Image result for tax money fly away


By The Urban Blabbermouth
~
The Social Security Administration sent me an estimate of my retirement benefits. I did not request it. Maybe the nice folks in my Company's HR Department requested it on my behalf. Maybe the thoughtful folks at Social Security randomly selected me or maybe the old folks AARP arranged for it as one of their recruiting strategies. I just don't know.

Included was a Statement Of Earnings, every dollar I ever made from my first year of work to last year's pay. My economic biography in black and white.

In my first year of work, and I shall not mention what year that was, I made $704. I was a teenager then and I was working at McDonald's Hamburger Restaurant. McDonald's back then was the biggest employer of teenagers in the world. My father saw a hiring sign as he drove by the McDonald's. He pushed me to go and apply, "Get a job, my beloved son!" That's how parents are, always training their kids to work hard and do well for themselves.

I remember the job interview. The manager asked the usual hiring questions: Where do you go to school? What are your grades? What do you want to be when you grow up? The last question was, "A customer's bill comes to $1.47 and he gives you $2.00. How much change would you give back?"

I stumbled on this question for a while and finally told him, "Fifty-three cents."

He said, "Good, but you will have to do that faster. We will teach you how to count up. Come back next Tuesday to fill out paperwork."

Yippeee, on my way to millions.

I remember my first McDonald's pay check. I was expecting tons of money and I kept imagining of all the things I would buy. When I got the check, I was shocked. It was half what I expected. I went to see that manager and complained that there was a mistake.

He took my check, looked it over, and said, "No it's right," and handed it back to me.

I said, "No it's too little. Something is not right. It should be..." and I named some number.

He looked me straight in the face and said, "Nooo, it's right. You don't get the full pay. You have to pay taxes and other deductions."

I took the check from him, cashed it, but I felt cheated and disappointed. It's been like that ever since.


Comments

I wonder what teenage you would think of all the roads and schools you have funded over the years?
Hi Barbara,

This is the logic argument that I use to console myself but my emotions tell the differently. As time passes, the schools and the roads seem to slowly deteriorate. A sort of product life cycle kind of thing. It maybe time for another way but I have no ideas to offer.

Thank you for stopping by and sharing your thoughts.


Be well.

Popular posts from this blog

A Subway Journey Home

by The Urban Blabbermouth. Comments are welcome! ~ There is a ritual to theNew York City subway system. Once there, you lose your humanity.  You are transformed into a savage, brutal and selfish automaton.  Savage in that you push and shove other riders out of your way to get into the subway car.  Brutal in that you never excuse yourself for any atrocities that you commit to get in the subway car.  Selfish in that you never give up your seat to anyone, no matter how crippled or old or pregnant they are.  Automaton in that you never look at any one else as a human being.

Now there are certain strategies that you can employ to be a successful subway rider.  You can stand by the door and obstruct the way just to be selfish and ornery.  That strategy is designed to increase your standing with your fellow passengers by impressing them with how vicious you can be pushing back at people trying to push into the car.  Whenever I see this strategy employed, I immediately piggy back on it.  I move …

Gone Shopping

by The Urban Blabbermouth
~
Dracula escorted his newly created undead aide into the store.

"...and you need to sleep in the daytime," he explained.

"But what are we doing here in Sleepy's Mattress store?" asked his aide. "I thought we slept in coffins."

"We are modern now," replied Dracula. "We use a mattress like anyone else. I tell you, after two hundred years of sleeping on rock and dirt, this is a joy. So much more comfortable and you don't have to haul it around from place to place."

"Amazing," said the aide.

"For a newbie like you, maybe you want to go traditional. Sleepy's has a Posturedic that will fit inside a coffin."

"What do you use?" asked the aide.

"I have a sleep-number bed. I love it. Mrs. Dracula can toss and turn and I don't feel it on my side."

"Now that you mention the ladies, I think I will skip the coffin. A moo…

I Swear!

by Vol-E

I've lived in the south for over 30 years. Having grown up as a New Yorker, there were some changes to get used to once I crossed the Mason-Dixon line.

Language was a big one. My parents were well-behaved in public, but behind the closed doors of our home, they taught me all kinds of interesting vocabulary words, as they took their everyday frustrations out on one another. "Jerk" and "bastard" were two of the earliest ones, but by the time I was about eight, I knew pretty much every one of George Carlin's pet no-nos.

It was only in college that I met people who were outspokenly offended by swear words. The ones that raised eyebrows initially were related to religion. I began to think twice about using "hell" and "damn," and was politely informed one day that "God's last name is not 'dammit.'" So I gradually began censoring myself a bit, which was probably a good thing, once I joined the work force. Macy…