Sigh…another parcel tax.
I know I am not the only one who feels that this outrageous proposal comes too close on the heels of the last one. Ah, yes, I remember it like it was yesterday: I was walking down the street, minding my own business, when I passed by a polling place and decided to enter and vote for a couple of candidates, for a lark, just as a debutante out for a stroll on a Saturday night might decide to pop into a Navy bar for a refreshing glass of sarsaparilla before continuing on her merry way.
Once I was within the dark confines of the voting booth, however, I was shocked—shocked!—to find myself confronted with a seemingly endless series of propositions, each one more scandalous than the last. I started to feel just like that poor debutante in the Navy bar: I kept slapping their hands away, but they wouldn't take "no" for an answer. "C'mon, baby, just this once—it'll help the schools!" the text of the measures said, reeking of fiscal irresponsibility, and though my lips replied "no," my pen was busy marking, "Yes, yes, yes!" Mortified, I ran out into the street, leaving my partially completed ballot sitting there like a half-empty glass of sarsaparilla.
And yet…I find that I can't stop thinking about those scandalous propositions and those grabbing hands. Even as I shouted, "Unhand me, you scalawags!" I felt the urge to add, under my breath, "But not so quickly!" I know how wrong parcel taxes are, but there is still a part of me that wants to fulfill the needs of our sailors—I mean, our schools, which are obviously a worthy cause, and we clearly need the parcel tax to avert the current disaster. I can't help myself! I know that the next time I get near a voting booth, I'll end up voting to increase my taxes again. I only hope that the school district will still respect me in the morning.