Getting the property tax run-around
Let me preface this rant by accepting a portion of the blame for my latest headache. I suppose I should have noticed that my property tax bill hadn't arrived. But, I didn't.
Fortunately, my mortgage company was kind enough to inform me of the situation.
The Orange County Tax Collector certainly made no such effort, though I believe Florida statutes include that responsibility in their job description.
Of course, this may be due to the fact that the guy in charge of that particular looney bin is pushing 100 years of age . . . . literally. I mean, this guy has been taking our hard-earned money in this little corner of heaven since before Disney World was a twinkle in Walt's eye.
That probably explains why he mailed my tax bill to the wrong address. But, even though it was promptly returned to his minions by the post office as undeliverable, no one over there bothered to make any attempt to get the bill to me. If they had simply mailed it to the address they were taxing, I would have had it in a matter of a couple of days.
Anyway, I talked to the kind folks at the ASSESSOR's office (who, by contrast couldn't do enough to help me and were very kind on the phone), explained the situation, and got things straightened out so this won't happen again next year. And, they told me to call Mr. Wood's office and ask them to waive the late fees that have accrued.
But, when I called over there, I had the displeasure of dealing with a nameless "customer relations specialist" who could barely speak English and her manager Cathy, neither of whom gave two whits that their incompetence (coupled with my obliviousness, admittedly) was the root of the problem. In fact, they gave me the added good news that they wouldn't accept my personal check or credit card to pay the bill. Now they expect me to trot down to the bank and get a cashier's check!!!!
And, bureaucrats wonder why they are so loathed . . .
I need to find a good tea party this afternoon . . .