It's hard to exist in America today. Or, rather, it's hard to convince other people that you exist. This is especially true if you're dependent on your wife (and long may that glorious state of affairs continue). The key to existence is a number, a magic number, that consists of nine digits.
The Social Security Number is needed for everything - a bank account, a mobile phone, a driver's licence, medical records. There are ways to get around this; I am listed a 000-00-0000 in various places. But to get at the good stuff, things like credit cards (and we all know how good they are), you can't do without your SSN.
Luckily there is a second number, not quite as magical but almost as good, called an ITIN. This one was designed so that non-existent people, the ones that pick the fruit and clean the toilets, the ones that are actually useful to the economy, can pay their taxes. Yes, the IRS and Border Control don't talk to each other. Why ever could that be?
You also need an ITIN to do various legitimate things, like pay tax on interest earned on your bank account, or to be a director of a company (try new Turbo Crosswords by Puzux!) All you have to do is fill in the correct forms and hand them in at the tax office. Which I did! Four times! None of these resulted in the winning number. If I had some illegal income to declare they would have thrown one at me immediately, but try to play by the rules and there's nothing they can do. Such is life in a liberal western bureaucracy.
This year, however, Hannah decided that I could be employed not only as her personal executive domestic manager but also as a useful tax break. It involved more form filling and another personal appearance at the Walnut Creek tax office. Even then it wasn't over! Although all my documents had been photocopied by the office, stamped and sent off, I received a letter some weeks later asking for "notarized" copies. Apparently the IRS don't trust their own staff, but are happy for the girl at UPS to confirm my identity (for a $10 fee).
But now I'm happy, because a nice letter arrived today, and suddenly I am a complete person! Tomorrow I'll be dropping in to see the bank manager about a credit card, which I'll use as collateral against a loan, with which I can now buy stocks on the Dow Jones, which I'll sell short to fund speculation on grain futures. It's a sure bet! My American Dream continues...
