And then we were accused of Tax Evasion 2

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Last night, Scott and I were accused of tax evasion.

Yeah.

Let’s start from the beginning, which was a perfectly innocent phone call. Scott was driving to Minneapolis for a stand-up comedy show, and decided to give me a ring to pass the time. About five minutes into our very important conversation about Chipotle burritos, I heard him scream “OH NO!” before the line went dead.

Please tell me I’m not the only one who would assume the worst in this situation?

I immediately tried calling him back. Eleven times. When he didn’t pick up, I decided he had undoubtedly been involved in a fatal car crash. Over a burrito. Cue the panicking, praying and eating handfuls of Craisins so quickly, I ended up choking and having to use a dining table chair to give myself the Heimlich maneuver. It worked, but I’m pretty sure I saw the dog roll her eyes at me.

(Clearly, she’s just jealous as she’s allergic to Craisins.)

After saving myself from death by dried cranberries, I started to feel guilty about my scenario. Mainly for two reasons.

1. The thought crossed my mind, just for a split second, that if something were to happen to Scott, I would not collect a quarter of a million dollars. To put it frankly, the man has a lot of student loans. And I have a lot of audacity. Regardless, I felt really crappy that life insurance was the twelfth thing that crossed my mind in such a dire moment.

2. It was quite possible that my last words to my husband were, “You’re crazy! The salsa verde is clearly superior to the pico de gallo. I can’t even believe I’m married to someone with such a skewed perception of Mexican condiments!!!”

Truly, the only thing worse than losing a loved on in a car crash is losing a loved one in a car crash that may or may not have been caused by a knock-down, drag-out Chipotle debate.

Just as I was about to return once more to the bag of Craisins, the phone rang. It was Scott. He was fine, but had been pulled over by a police officer for not using his turn signal when changing lanes.

This should have been a relief.

But when you’ve been denied adequate car insurance and a Zip Car membership because your husband has collected no less than three tickets in the last twelve months, this news does not make you feel better.

Not at all.

In all fairness, only one of the tickets was actually Scott’s fault. The other two fell into his lap through a combination of bad luck, terrible weather, and the foolish decision to use the “back roads” on a recent trip to Nebraska.

(Side note: Any cop who gives someone a ticket in a blizzard because black ice causes them to slide through a stop sign, is a douche bag of epic proportions. I’m talking to you Officer “used to get beat up in high school and am now wreaking havoc on the city of Bellevue.”)

Ahem.

Fortunately, this ticket won’t go on our record and will be fogiven as soon as we get a Minnesota license plate and tabs. That’s right…our humble little Toyota is still registered in the good old state of Washington. Nothing expires until next October, and I figured there was no point in spending any money until then, right?

Wrong.

As it turns out, there is a point–living in a new state for more two months without updating your plates is considered tax evasion.

What?

We purchased our car in Upstate New York back in 2007. Because Scott was a full-time student, he was able to claim Nebraska residency and license/register our vehicle through the state of Nebraska. This meant we paid Nebraska sales tax (as opposed to super-pricey New York sales tax) which literally saved us thousands of dollars.  Never mind the fact that it would be over three years until this car even visited the state of Nebraska.

That? That my friends, is tax evasion.

(Perhaps I shouldn’t have just shared that on the internet.)

(Just kidding. We were assured by multiple experts that all of this was perfectly legal.)

My point is this: It seems completely asinine that lying about our state of residence to shave three percent off the sales tax was perfectly acceptable, but now we’re getting our hands slapped for failing to get new plates, when our current plates haven’t even expired yet.

On the bright side, I’m trying to look at this nuisance as an opportunity to finally get vanity plates. I’ll probably go with “CHIPOTLE”, but have also been looking into “CRAISINS”.

****

On second thought, Scott and I will not be investing in vanity plates. Sure, rolling through the ‘hood in the Chipotle-mobile would totally boost our street cred, but after doing some pricing research, $108.50 just doesn’t seem worth it. I actually had no idea vanity plates were so pricey…I mean….who knew looking incredibly tacky could be so expensive?

Kim Zolciak

“Don’t be tardy for the DMV”

Let me rephrase that. Who, other than Kim Zolciak, knew looking incredibly tacky could be so expensive?

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