And though I had slain a thousand foes less one,
The thousandth knife found my liver;
The thousandth enemy said to me,
'Now you shall die,
Now none shall know.'
And the fool, looking down, believed this,
Not seeing, above his shoulders, the naked stars,
Each one remembering.
--John M. Ford, The Final Reflection

The Asylum Director

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"The only thing I was fit for was to be a writer, and this rested solely on my suspicion that I would never be fit for real work, and that writing didn't require any." - Russel Baker

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Gripe #14: And Gene Cruz Attempts To Screw Me Over One More Time

The frustrating part? He might actually pull this one off. Bastard.

Might.

Let me put this down into detail from the beginning.

I am, as an employee, entitled to a little something called a tax refund. Considering how the accounting department of pretty much every single company I've ever been to has worked to screw me over in my income tax, I suspect I should get just a little bit of it to come back to me. Anyway, the money has been a long time in coming and, damn it, I could use that cash.

I catch word that, yes, the money is coming. However, this news was disseminated by e-mail. An e-mail that was sent to what appeared to be just half of the former employees of the company, with the other half basically left in the dust. The official excuse for this was that the new office in Makati was small, and would likely be unable to accommodate all of the former employees. I figure they just don't want anyone to see just how deep in the dirt the company's gone.

Then, earlier this morning, without any real warning, only one of the former employees is informed - all of a sudden, no less - that the checks can be claimed today, 8am to 10am. And only today, mind you. Now, imagine that only one of us was informed, not all of us would be able to make it within the set time frame, and it is highly unlikely that all of us would be informed of this in time. Take into account things like travel time, availability, and all that. Yeah, I doubt that most of us would be able to get our hands on money that we so richly deserve.

That's not the only thing that's been set up against us, however. There's more.

The refund - that should have been in cold, hard cash - was given in the form of a check. Not just any check. Oh no. The damn thing is a thrice-damned cross-check.

What does that mean? It means I have to go through banking hoops to get my money. First, I need to get it deposited into my old payroll account. An account that, as is common practice around here, is closed shortly after I leave the company and withdraw every last cent from it that I can. Even if the account is, by some miracle, still open, I still need to wait for a three-day "clearing period" before I can even verify if the money even went in. Even then, there's no assurance that the check would get in and be deposited properly, making it very difficult for me to be sure that I'll even get to get my money.

This doesn't even begin to describe all the trouble I'd have to go through to get my money if the account is no longer open. No, that step involves visiting said former jackass shyster of an employer in their new office. I'd need to talk to them to see if there's anything they can do to give me my money. The last time I had to do that involved a discrepancy with my income tax (notice how this seems to be a recurring problem with them?) and I was told that there was nothing they could do. Despite my producing legal documents clearly stating that, contrary to their statements, there was something they could have done. Useless turds.

But this is money we're talking about. I like money. I love money. I need money.

It just so happens that my current employer has, as far as I can tell, a competent accounting team. There's a chance - a slim one, I admit - that they might be able to arrange things so that the thrice-damned cross-check is deposited into my current payroll account. Or better yet, on an even slimmer chance, give me the money in cash.

Gods damn you, Gene Cruz. Gods damn you, Intelligraph Corporation, or whatever your new name happens to be.


I will get my money, damn it.

You're not screwing me over. Never again.

2 comments:

Cough Syrup Junkie said...

i thought i was reading brian gorell's blog when i read this post. get your money.

me said...

hey, give this poor guy his money! before he starts blackmailing! hahahahahaha!


whoa, harvey. chill. seriously. no sense bursting a capillary over this. ^_^