The Dropoff
When Sandy called The Brown Elephant on Sunday to check into making a very large donation, they listed all kinds of no-nos: no hangers, no ripped clothes, no broken appliances. Well, we had hangers in our coats, we were donating ripped jeans, and although the Cuisinart works if you jam a knife into it, I think it qualifies as broken.
So, because it is my nature to be paranoid and guilty, I was very worried about how things would go when I showed up today with Sandy’s mom and two cars full of bags and boxes. I had visions of the staff going through each and every item we brought and telling me why it was too crappy to donate and forcing me to cross it off my neat and orderly ItsDeductible printout while I cried in shame.
But, instead, they have a notepad of pre-printed, pre-signed receipts. All you have to do is fork over your carloads, and then fill out a form with your name, address, the general list of stuff you donated (clothes, kitchen items, games, cassette tapes) and the estimated value of those items. The itemized list is between you and the IRS. They don’t want to get into it.
So, as far as I can tell, everything IsStillDeductible and I finally have the backseat of my car back.
