Slapped with a Ten Ninety-Nine

"The 1099 form is used to report non-employment income to the Internal Revenue Service (IRS)."
For those who might be reading my humble musings and not be familiar with some of the terminology that I use, I try to provide context or definition.
Many hip people from my past (as well as the non-hip people of today) perform acts of labor for which taxable income is not reported to the federal, state, and/or local municipality/municipalities. This type of transaction is referred to--in my daily parlance--as being paid "off the books" or "under the table." The compensation used to be exclusively rendered by cash payment. These days one could use an electronic transfer from some sort of account (debit, checking, savings) to another (i.e., Zelle).
I prefer to write checks.
Back in the mid-'80s I worked for a fundraiser who had a bookkeeper who was an anorexic hillbilly named Pat. Pat didn't know she was a hillbilly. (I'm not sure that she knew she was an anorexic). She was 5'6 and usually weighed somewhere around the 100 pound mark (probably without her stiletti on). How do I know this? We had one of those medical scales with sliding weights in the bathroom and she would never move the weights back to zero. Like anyone cares!?
Pat had her hair frosted and used a curling iron followed by hairspray to keep her bombshell sized curls in place. I once asked her what her 'natural' color was. She said, "It's stick straight and the color of an Irish setter." I don't think I have ever compared my hair (or any of my body parts) with that of a dog, but heck, I'm not an anorexic hillbilly.
Anyway, Pat did the weekly billing for the office and also had to reimburse expense accounts to agents who were in the field. One particular agent would call from time to time and ask after the ladies in the office. He had a habit of asking me leading questions to find out personal information about said 'ladies in the office.'
Pat was not on my RADAR. She was married to a coast guard captain and lived in Mill Valley in a house that she referred to as "our retirement home". They wound up living there for about five years before Cap'n Crunch got transferred to NC and their retirement home got sold.
One day I told the agent that Pat was working on her payables and didn't like being disturbed, but he insisted so I transferred the call. When the call was over, I could hear the stiletto clacking against the tiled floor. She went to the kitchen and poured herself a cup of black coffee and put some air-popped popcorn into a paper napkin.
She was madder than a wet hen!
"That man actually put cigars on his expense account. Had the nerve to tell me they were a business expense. I've got a good mind to slap him with a ten ninety-nine!"
At the time, my 25 year old self didn't know what a 1099 was. My 25 year old self also didn't know enough hillbilly English to know why a woman would slap a man with a government form. My 25 year old self was still trying to figure out why anyone in his/its/their/her right mind would opt for air-popped popcorn over corn popped in oil.
But that was Pat, the woman who made bombshell curls, painted her nails Jungle Red (with points), dyed her Irish setter red hair, wore the highest of high heels in an office of 3 people, lunched on black coffee and air-popped popcorn, and exposed the mandible teeth when she spoke.