Sir,
I am writing to express my outrage at the so-called Moustache Tax levied upon me during my brief and involuntary passage through Fitzrovia last Thursday. As a proud resident of Bloomsbury, I had no intention of stopping in your peculiar little borough, but alas, my usual route was blocked by a rogue troupe of experimental theatre performers, forcing me to detour through your domain.
Imagine my horror when, upon setting foot on Charlotte Street, I was accosted by what can only be described as a Facial Hair Revenue Officer, wielding a clipboard and a tape measure. Without so much as a “Good afternoon, sir,” I was informed that my handlebar moustache fell under the Fitzrovian Personal Ornamentation Levy (Section 3B: “Resplendent Whiskers”) and that I owed £8.75 immediately.
When I protested that I was merely passing through and that my moustache was of a personal, non-commercial nature, I was met with nothing but bureaucratic indifference. My attempts to reason were futile—the officer even produced a laminated chart illustrating various taxable styles, pointing smugly to “The Grand Handlebar” as a prime offender.
This is daylight robbery. Fitzrovia has long had a reputation for eccentricity, but this brazen attempt to extort money from innocent, well-groomed gentlemen is beyond the pale. Had I known of this absurd tax, I would have taken precautions—perhaps shaving off my moustache entirely before daring to set foot in your grasping, follicle-financing jurisdiction.
Until I am reimbursed in full, I shall be boycotting Fitzrovia entirely. I shall take my custom elsewhere, and so shall my moustache. Bloomsbury welcomes all styles of facial hair free of charge, and I urge my fellow bewhiskered gentlemen to avoid your tax-hungry streets lest they, too, fall victim to your shameless follicular profiteering.
Yours furiously,
Major Cornelius Whiffleton (Retired)
Russell Square, Bloomsbury
