All my life I lived under the assumption that everything but food is taxable. Just a fact of life.
Then just recently I decided to treat myself to a barbecued chicken from the local supermarket. When I saw that the price was $8.99 I hesitated because another chain is selling them for $7.99. My tummy decided for me, as I had no inclination to drive 60 miles to the other supermarket.
I handed the teller a $10 bill and waited for my change. The teller meanwhile was waiting for more money. She said, “I need another eight cents.” Doing a quick calculation, I realized that I was paying a dollar and nine cents HST added to the cost of my lunch. Stifling my instinct to leave it on the counter or return it to the deli, I avoided further embarrassment by reaching for my change purse, fumbling for the eight cents while mumbling something about never doing this again.
Perusing the internet later in the evening, I read this interesting analogy. “The HST referendum is all about two wolves and a sheep voting on what they’ll have for dinner.”
I await anxiously to see if the sheep will be alive to see the morning.