Dogarazzi: Week 30

Last Saturday morning, JG was pumped up. It was tax time, baby!

When I rolled out of bed (finally!), he passed off Ted to me so that he could finish up the loose ends on Turbo Tax and get us our refund already. I can think of very few things that make JG happier than to thumb through a sheaf of W2s and fill in forms. I don’t understand it, but I appreciate it. I wouldn’t have thought to put “will do my taxes willingly and eagerly” on my list of Attractive Husband Traits, but the universe knew and took care of it for me. Thank you, universe. I took Ted without protestation and proceeded to cuddle up with a warm doggie and watch DVRed episodes of Ace of Cakes and Jamie at Home. Ah, Saturdays.

Then, I heard a cry from the dining table:

“What do you mean, there’s an error?”

Uh oh.

Turbo Tax was telling JG that there was a social security number missing on one of the W2s, but when he followed the directions to refer back to the federal forms, nothing was missing. He tried to do his own troubleshooting, but when he called for help, he had the misfortune of connecting to a representative who is in the running for Worst Customer Service Representative Since Time Began. I do not exaggerate when I say that JG gave our e-mail address, zip code, and spelled his first and last name at least ten times each. This guy made JG re-type the flawed forms twice, then create a new account, and download his previously-entered information, only to realize that he somehow couldn’t access this new account from his end. Two hours went by, and the representative concluded that their “systems must be down.”

Come again?

JG was furious. He asked to speak with a supervisor, but when he was waiting on hold, the easy-listening jazz switched over to an ominous busy signal, and then the line went dead.

I watched and listened with growing incredulity. JG was valiantly fighting for the right to file his own taxes, only to be foiled by a software glitch and raging incompetence. The situation was, for lack of a more refined term, just plain wrong.

Immediately, JG called Turbo Tax again and talked to a more helpful representative, who dished out free things like there was no tomorrow. She couldn’t solve his problem, so she entered it into their online tech help system, and JG got an e-mail early this week that provided a solution to a problem he had not described. At long last, he managed to talk to another person who actually looked at his forms and prescribed the correct remedy. Ultimately, if we discount the irritation and time, JG practically filed our taxes for free, and there is something to be said for that.

All of this is to say: I love my husband very, very, very much. Wouldn’t you?

(Happy Valentine’s Day, JG!)

Oh, right, today is supposed to be about Ted. Well, when I needed to grab a snack that morning, he was kind enough to help JG with the tax situation. It’s a good thing that he doesn’t charge for his consulting services.

Stroll on over to see new-girl Smalls, Rufus, Ben, Gus, and Zapp, and submit your nominations for the first-ever Doggie Bloggie Awards by tomorrow!