Buffalo Gal

I obsessively adore a man I've never met.
My husband is cool with it, he feels the same way.
My first love considers him his very best friend.
Arthur is more than an an accountant, he is a God. Before he came into my life I was battered, beaten and defeated by the annual tax crunch. Today, I hold my head high and say "Thank you, Arthur."
Last year was the worst yet. I was e-whining about our tax situation to Andy when he recommended his New Jersey buddy, Arthur.
In high school, Andy was hot stuff. Long, black hair, quick smile, athletic swagger. He was dark and dangerous and made my stomach do cheerleading flips while I was standing still. That was the 70s. Flash forward three decades and two husbands and Andy is still a great guy and a dear friend.
But anonymous Arthur -- he's the man. For the first time in what seems like forever, we are getting a refund this year.
I no longer fear April 15. In fact, for Arthur, I'm even doing a better job on maintaining records for next year.
He makes numbers dance, quotes classic rock and roll and writes funny emails. We're both happily married, but at least on April 15, a girl can dream.

Copyright 2004 Judi Griggs

Buffalo Gal Judi Griggs I'm a communications professional, writer, cynic, mother, wife and royal pain. The order depends on the day. I returned to my hometown in November 2004 after a couple of decades of heat and hurricanes. I can polish pristine copy, but not here. This is my morning exercise -- 20-minute takes without a net or spellcheck. It's easier than sit ups for me. No guarantee what it will be for you. Clicking on the subscribe link will send you an email notice when each new entry is posted.
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Previous Entry :: Next Entry Read/Post Comments (2) Share on Facebook		2004-04-15 7:56 AM Art of taxes I obsessively adore a man I've never met. My husband is cool with it, he feels the same way. My first love considers him his very best friend. Arthur is more than an an accountant, he is a God. Before he came into my life I was battered, beaten and defeated by the annual tax crunch. Today, I hold my head high and say "Thank you, Arthur." Last year was the worst yet. I was e-whining about our tax situation to Andy when he recommended his New Jersey buddy, Arthur. In high school, Andy was hot stuff. Long, black hair, quick smile, athletic swagger. He was dark and dangerous and made my stomach do cheerleading flips while I was standing still. That was the 70s. Flash forward three decades and two husbands and Andy is still a great guy and a dear friend. But anonymous Arthur -- he's the man. For the first time in what seems like forever, we are getting a refund this year. I no longer fear April 15. In fact, for Arthur, I'm even doing a better job on maintaining records for next year. He makes numbers dance, quotes classic rock and roll and writes funny emails. We're both happily married, but at least on April 15, a girl can dream. Copyright 2004 Judi Griggs Read/Post Comments (2) Previous Entry :: Next Entry Back to Top