Riga Introduces Mandatory Smile Tax to Combat City's Infamous Gloominess
In a bold move to brighten the streets of Latvia's capital, Riga's City Council has unveiled the Smile Tax, a mandate requiring residents to flash two documented smiles daily. The initiative aims to counteract the city's longstanding title as the 'Capital of Stoicism,' a reputation stemming largely from its consistently overcast weather and the naturally reserved demeanor of its inhabitants.
City Mayor Lauris Smilgs, the mastermind behind the initiative, believes that a strategic taxation model will bring a wave of cheer to Riga. 'Research shows that smiling can increase happiness, reduce stress, and, quite frankly, make strangers less likely to cross the street when they see you walking towards them,' Smilgs explained at a press conference. 'We want Riga to be the beacon of Baltic cheerfulness. It's time we put our best faces forward—quite literally.'
The Smile Tax requires every city resident over the age of twelve to display two genuine smiles each day. Compliance is monitored using cutting-edge expression meters, affectionately dubbed by locals as 'smolaidiometers,' which have been strategically installed in public spaces across the city, including people’s favorite places like bus stops, libraries, and those numerous kebab shops that never seem to close.
For every documented smile, residents will earn a 'happiness credit' which can be redeemed for city services such as public transport passes, discounted theater tickets, or even a free frothy coffee from the newly opened city-run chain, 'Sveika Bean.' Failure to comply results in a nominal fee and mandatory enrollment in the city's Smile Rehabilitation Workshop, where professional smileologists teach the art of authentic Baltic smiling.
'Residents have received the news of this scheme in a surprisingly mixed manner,' commented Hildars Grusts, a survey analyst from the Latvian Institute of Joviality. '51% of Rīgans are thrilled by the initiative and have already begun practicing their smiles in front of mirrors, while 49%—ironically, the more vocal half—worry that the whole endeavor might actually be a thinly veiled strategy to boost tourism by assuring foreigners that Latvians are, in fact, incredibly friendly beneath their stark, stone-faced exteriors.'
Critics argue that the tax might lead to smile inflation, where smiles become less valuable and genuine over time. However, Mayor Smilgs assures residents that the plan has a built-in authenticity indicator. 'Fake smiles will still be taxed, but rest assured, they won't get you any happiness credits. This is about fostering genuine connections, not duping the system,' he added.
Business owners in Riga have shown enthusiastic support for the initiative, with many offering incentives for employees who achieve smile compliance before their morning coffee. 'I never thought I would see the day when we'd clap for someone smiling in the corridor,' admitted manager Ilze Krūmiņa of the 'Damp & Cold Ltd' office supply company. 'But here we are, and it's surprisingly contagious. Even the fax machine seems to be jamming less.'
As the Smile Tax comes into full effect, Riga’s streets are predicted to beam with unprecedented joy, confusing tourists and delighting locals alike. The city, once deemed Europe's best place to contemplate life’s somber moments in peace, might just evolve into a haven where inner joy is as indispensable as a wool scarf in deep January.