Free Confessions of a Tax Collector by Richard Yancey Page A

“Remember the three Cs in ‘collection.’ Cause, cure, compliance. Cause: What did the TP do—or not do—to fall behind or not file? Cure: What can the TP do—or you do—to bring the taxpayer back into compliance? Compliance: Is the TP current? If it’s a business, are the owners current? Is every entity they have an interest in current? Check everything, across the board.”
    Melissa : “Always make demand. Demand, demand, demand. Don’t write in your history: ‘Asked TP to pay.’ Always write,
‘Demanded
full-pay.’ That’s how I begin every history: ‘Issued Pub I [2] and demanded full-pay.’”
    Cindy: A lien is automatic. It arises as a matter of law after the tax goes unpaid for ten days. A
Notice
of Federal Tax Lien is a document filed in the county courthouse that perfects our lien, the lien that already exists… out there. Out there in, I don’t know, limbo somewhere. A lien is not a levy. Sometimes a TP will call in and say, ‘You put a lien on my bank account!’ No, you placed a
levy
on his bank account. The NFTL [3] . attaches to everything; a levy is specific. Bank account, wages, savings, tangible assets— that would be a seizure, though it’s still a levy. Seizures are levies but not all levies are seizures, though technically we are seizing the actual money in the bank account. The lien grabs anything and everything the taxpayer owns now or in the future, but it doesn’t do anything with it. The lien just sits there, at the courthouse, letting everybody know we’re in there, like a mortgage or a judgment, but those people have to go to court to enforce their interest; we don’t. We just go in and levy the assets under the authority of our lien. Though you don’t need a lien down to issue a levy to a bank account, say, or someone’s wages, because the statutory lien is floating around out there. So don’t get confused about liens or levies. Levy, lien. Lien, levy. You’ll get it straight.“
    At home, Pam asked how it was going.
    “I really don’t know.”
    “What do you mean? How can you not know?”
    “I don’t know because I don’t have a clue what we’re doing.”
    “Rick, why are you wasting your time with this? You’re like an elephant taking flying lessons.”
    I decided to ignore the remark. “How many Cs in collection?” I asked.
    “What?”
    “How many Cs are there in collection?”
    “Two.”
    “You’re wrong. In the IRS, there are three Cs in collection. And did you know that a tax lien floats around in limbo, that there’s a purgatory for tax liens? Then you have your liens that don’t float. They stick. Stick and grab. Sticky, grabby liens, leeching onto everything you have.”
    “I hate taxes,” she said.
    “I’m staying at least through Phase One.”
    “It’s a waste of time.”
    “But they’re paying me a helluva lot of money just to sit there and be bored and confused.”
    “Okay. I can see the appeal of that.”
    “Are you coming with me to Tampa?”
    “Why the hell would I do that?”
    “It might be fun.”
    “Look, Rick, you chose to get into this. I told you not to and you did it anyway. This is your gig, not mine.”
    “Just a suggestion. I’ll only be home on the weekends, you know.”
    “Fine. But if I find out you’ve screwed any of those weirdos, I’ll super-glue your dick to your leg.”
    JANUARY 29, 1991, IRS TRAINING CENTER, TAMPA
    Byron Samuels, Chief of Collection for the Jacksonville District, opened Revenue Office Unit 1 Basic Training with these remarks:
    “I just wanted to take this opportunity to welcome all of you on board. This is an exciting time for the Service, the most ambitious and massive hiring initiative we’ve ever undertaken and I know you won’t disappoint us.”
    We were sitting in a large classroom, two to a table. Caroline was my tablemate. She had brought a plastic hotel cup filled with grapes with her. For someone so thin, Caroline was constantly eating. Seated directly in front of us were