It's about this time of the year that I dread the business tax bill for my business that is due in February each year. Of all the taxes I pay -- business and personal -- this one is the most hated because there is absolutely no return on it. At least with other taxes I know streets are getting paved, some social services are being provided and, unfortunately, a war is being fought. But with the business tax all I get is a piece of paper saying I'm allowed to do business in this city. Some people proudly frame this license and put it on their wall (it is supposed to be displayed at all times). I bury it deep in my desk drawer because it just makes me too angry to look at it.
Now business licenses are becoming the (forced) fashion rage for G-String Divas.
In San Antonio on Friday the City Council unanimously (11 members) approved a measure requiring exotic dancers to apply for permits. OK, that's bad enough, but get this. The dancers can't hang this license on the wall above their make-up mirrors or place them on their vanity tables. The permit, about half the size of a credit card, must be worn while the dancers are performing!! "I really don't know where we're supposed to place it," said the performer, Tempest.
I guess they'll just have to find a place to bury it, like I do.
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