Every kid dreams of finding a buried chest full of gold coins, a few emeralds, and maybe a wooden leg or two. But grown-ups who actually find treasure soon discover the real pirates aren’t the ones with eye patches and hooks. They’re the ones with ID badges reading “Internal Revenue Service.”
FinancialIrony
Uncle Sam Wants to Venmo You
Remember when getting a tax refund meant waiting by the mailbox like a kid on Christmas morning? Except, instead of a shiny new bike, you got a government-issued check printed on shiny iridescent paper? You’d spot that official envelope, rip it open with the excitement of opening your card from Grandma (with a crisp $20 bill inside), and admire the John Hancock of some Treasury bureaucrat who probably couldn’t get a table at Applebee’s without a reservation. Then you’d rush to the bank and stand in line behind a guy depositing coins in a jar. And of course, there was always the risk your ex would intercept it, or the family dog would decide it made the perfect chew toy. It was a ritual equal parts thrilling, frustrating, and absurdly outdated, like renting DVDs from Blockbuster or printing out MapQuest directions.