The US tax year parallels the calendar year – no such thing as the financial year in this country – and April 15 is the deadline to submit my first tax return as a permanent resident.
It took me hours sorting through all my receipts and categorising them into levels of likely deductibility. Expenses took about 4.5 hours, and income 4.5 minutes, to complete. However, the job finished, bulging folder with elasticised clasp in hand, I walked into an imposing building right at Penn Station (34th St) and up to the office of my new accountant.
His name is Martin J. Finkle. His assistant took my folder and I rode the elevator back down to street level and walked out into the maelstrom of midtown. All digits crossed for a sizeable refund. Marty Finkle. You can’t get much more New York than that.
