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Neighborhood news

Tiny shack an oasis in confusing world of taxes

It's not fancy nor expensive but handy and helpful when that dreaded day comes.

By S. I. ROSENBAUM
Published April 20, 2007

The sign reads:

TAX LAND

FAST $

LOW FEES

DRIVE THRU OPEN

The words are lit in neon. Behind the sign stands a tiny shack of unfinished pine, just off State Road 674 and next to a car lot.

Inside, there are green ruffled curtains on the tiny windows and instructions in English and Spanish tacked to the walls.

It's a far cry from H&R Block but hundreds of Wimauma residents have relied on Tax Land for years. It's an institution.

On Tuesday, Tax Day, they were still coming, offering up their documents to Yolanda Gomez, 32, and Elma Velasquez, 36.

"We're the cheapest place around," Velasquez said. "We know that for a fact." The price per tax return: $55.

Eighty percent of their clients are Hispanic, Velasquez said. Many of them are self-employed: farm workers, truckers, landscapers.

Some are even undocumented workers, filing taxes in the hope of making a good impression on immigration officials.

Velasquez and Gomez don't think that works, but they help them estimate taxes and file their papers anyway.

Tax Land has stood on this spot ever since an accountant named Connie opened it up, Velasquez said. Locals still call it Connie's.

Connie is gone now and the shack has changed hands more than once. The current owner, who declined to be interviewed, had the bright idea of putting in the drive-through window.

It's only open in February, their busy season, the time everyone gets their W-2s.

During that month, Gomez, said, the window is open from 9 a.m. to 9 p.m. People drive up to drop off their tax documents and later come back to the window to pick up the completed returns.

On Tuesday afternoon, the shack was quiet. Most of Tax Land's customers had already filed their returns.

But there were still some stragglers.

"The ones that wait until the last minute are the ones that owe," Velasquez said.

She and Gomez were waiting for their yearly pizza, which their boss always buys them on Tax Day.

Instead, a couple walked in. The man wore work pants. Old tattoos twined around his neck and wrists.

He sat down across from Gomez. He didn't have any forms for her.

Instead, he had a day planner in which he'd carefully noted the dates and amounts of his profits and expenses from his landscaping work.

That was all. Gomez was unfazed.

"Okay," she said. "Walk me through."

S.I. Rosenbaum can be reached at 661-2442 or srosenbaum@sptimes.com.

[Last modified April 19, 2007, 07:13:53]