This post is not a rant, even though it may sound like one. I am simply attempting to explain the issue in a slightly irritated manner. Because I am slightly irritated right now. Numbers always do that to me.

Yes, we’ll talk about numbers today. Numbers of the official kind. In most civilized countries, and in a few uncivilized ones too, or at least in those countries I’m familiar with, the governments make do with only one number. Some call it a social security number, some – a personal number, ID number, or what not. You know what it is and how to use it. And you use it for many different things, from getting a cell phone contract to paying your taxes. Simple, easy and efficient. One number to rule them all.

I quite like this system. Being the kind of person who has a hard time remembering her own birth date, I am more than happy with just one number to deal with. At least one number per country. Any more than that and I run into trouble.

Well, things are not so simple, easy and efficient in Poland. First, there is PESEL. PESEL stands for “Powszechny Elektroniczny System Ewidencji Ludności” which is basically a very fancy name for a personal ID number. Every Pole has one. Most Poles born after 1975, even if born abroad, have PESELs. No PESEL, no other documents. You need it for getting an ID card, or a driver’s license, or a passport. You need it for pretty much everything, everywhere. You get this number automatically, and boom, there it is. It consists of your date of birth – year (two digits), month and day plus five additional numbers. One of them signifies your sex, and I’m pretty sure that others also have some secret meaning.

And then there’s NIP. The bane of my existence. Numer Identyfikacji Podatkowej, which is a boring Polish name for a tax ID number. And as the name indicates, you use it for paying your taxes.

Getting one is the hard part. Normally, your employer must apply for it for you when you get a job. But what to do when you don’t have a permanent job? When you work as a freelancer, who doesn’t have a sole proprietorship or any other type of company? I cringe at the very thought. I’ve heard of stories that people were simply able to fill out the appropriate application form, went to the Tax Office (Urząd Skarbowy) and sorted themselves a NIP without any problems. But those are almost urban legends. I’ve never met a person who actually managed to accomplish this feat, it was always a friend of a friend’s cousin’s next door neighbor who did it.

I had a lot less luck when dealing with the Tax Office. The sour-faced lady at Pierwszy Urząd Skarbowy in Gdansk took one look at my application and said “no” without any further explanations. When asked “why” she pointed with her pen to window number 2.

The sour-faced lady at window number 2 took one look at my application and said “no employer information, no NIP.” When asked about freelancers, she said “not my problem. No employer details, no NIP” with that special tone of voice that meant “are you dumb or something?”

I asked her to explain it to me once again using simple words of no more than 2 syllables. And the story went like this:

If you are a freelancer, you still need your “employer” to fill out and stamp the form in order to be issued a NIP.

When I pointed out that this arrangement sort of defies the idea of working freelance, the sour-faced lady kindly answered, “so get a normal job and don’t bother me. Next!”

Luckily, I know someone who has a company and was willing to support my NIP application by acting as my employer. But all this leads me to believe that since Poland makes it so difficult to get a tax ID number, the government is not really interested in collecting those taxes. A very curious country indeed.

So what happened next? Instead of issuing me a NIP, the Tax Office lost my application. Arrgh!