Don’t Spend Diddly This Tax Day And Still Have a Good Time in New York
Call me unAmerican, but I’m tired of handing over my hard-earned cash to the government so it can make my financial decisions.
As a new small-business owner, this is the first year since I started working way back in the mid- to late-1990s that I haven’t received some kind of refund. Instead, I have to cough up a few hundred dollars to feed into the national slush fund.
Bump that. I bust my ass, pay my bills on time, and still I have to send a sizable check to the IRS so it can do God knows what with it.
As dutiful and compliant as I am, however, I plan to take a stand. This tax day, I’m not spending a dime. Not one red cent. Yep – that’ll show ‘em! And here’s how:
Wake up. Pee. (I realize that you think there should be a few more steps between those two actions. But there isn’t. Because that’s how I roll.)
Call out of work – fuck the establishment! (Note: This is sorta easy for me to say since I’m my own boss, so if you choose to use this itinerary as your own, contemplate discretion here; don’t be leavin’ nasty comments about how my advice got you fired). Make big breakfast – mostly because I deserve it – with ingredients I have around the house. Tentative menu includes a one-egg omelet with chopped deli ham and shredded cheddar cheese (real butter, salt and pepper, of course), thick-cut bacon on the side, and a biscuit for good measure. Scarf it down, but not too hastily. Prepare for day.
Pretend I’m a drone and head to my temporary “office” in the lobby of The London NYC hotel. Swank digs, if I do say so myself. I might even dress up to look the part, a la Chuck Bass. But why am I at such a snooty location? Apparently, there’s free Wi-Fi. Yeah, yeah, I know what you’re thinking: I thought he fucked the establishment? I did, but it was a quickie. Even though I’m not spending any money doesn’t mean I shouldn’t make any. It is a Thursday, after all.
Welcome jolt of energy with FREE mug of Starbucks coffee. Accidentally slip phone number to cute barista. Forget to tell fiancÃ© about it later.
Take my prepacked lunch outside – I’m thinking turkey, pesto and sun-dried tomatoes on wheat, string cheese and Goldfish crackers for snacks – and enjoy the brisk spring weather while watching the passersby. Afterward, I’ll head to the nearest Doubletree Hotel and pretend I’m a guest to nab one of the warm chocolate chip cookies the front-desk jockeys keep in a heated drawer behind the counter. Bliss.
Stroll through Central Park, camera in hand to capture rare gems like these:
Rabbit on a leash.
Boy about to get bit.
Douchebag playing polo.
Contemplate selling rare gems to whoever will buy them. Someone will. You can sell anything these days. More on that in a future post.
Refill on Starbucks. Different store, so they won’t think I’m a mooch. Find a cozy spot in a Barnes & Noble to read magazines and books that I would never buy even if I weren’t protesting today. Take power nap in corner.
Stop by Rodeo Bar to refuel with FREE wings and nachos, available weekdays from 4 to 7pm. Bat eyes at lonely old lady/man (I’m not picky) at the end of the bar to score a beer to wash it all down. Talk about life, death, taxes with old lady/man. Accept offer of second beer. Store his/her number in my phone for future reference.
Dessert at Cinnabon. There are several locations in New York City and all of them are participating in the company’s Tax Day Bites! promotion. Stop by anytime between 6 and 8pm (I’m shooting for 7pm to avoid the early-bird line) to receive two FREE cupcake bites available in one of four flavors: Cinnacake Classic, Chocolate Passion, Vanilla Bliss and 24-Carrot Cake.
Attend the Target Free Thursdays performance of DendÃª & HÃ£hÃ£hÃ£es – your guess on how to pronounce their names is as good as mine – at the David Rubenstein Atrium at Lincoln Center. Plan to arrive a little early as seating is limited and first-come, first-served.
Change pissy sheets. Pour myself into bed after a long day of not making a damn bit of fiscal difference but having a lot of fun trying.
Suck it, Uncle Sam.