My bank account looked a little like this.
But despite the relief of a cash-inflow, the job itself combines all the prestige of a door-to-door salesman with the respect of a substitute gym teacher. It also generates about as much excitement as a snail parade. Therefore, it has been vital throughout the "censutizing" process (that's a real word, I swear) to find ways to amuse myself; starting with mocking my training materials.
I spent 4 days in intense training, and included in that training were some vital safety tips from the government. These were hilarious mostly because a person reading them was forced to imagine that someone, at some point, actually found themselves in these situations. Just like the amusing HOT warnings on all McDonald's coffee cups, these safety tips must have their origins somewhere. So I'm going to write a few of them here and let your imaginations do the rest.
- Wear comfortable walking shoes. These shoes may come in handy should there be a need to run.
- Be cautious when riding elevators. If you are suspicious of another passenger, wait for the next car.
- As you walk towards your vehicle, scan beneath the vehicle for persons waiting to charge out at your ankles.
- Although some pets may be friendly, not all are friendly to strangers. Put something between you and a dog, such as a bag.
- If confronted by a dog, be submissive but do not run. If you run, the animal might try to knock you to the ground.
I do realize, of course, that this list could be taken from the hilarious to the horrifying depending on how you look at it. It isn't so much the concepts that I'm amused by (being eaten alive by dogs is a fear of mine second only to being eaten alive by sharks), it's more the careful wording. How, I ask you, could someone hiding beneath your low rider car be waiting to "charge" your ankles? Are we talking about some sort of Chucky-like living doll that hides under cars waiting to pounce? That's what I instantly imagine: some type of tiny person in a tiny tank preparing to charge.
And what about someone waiting for an elevator would make you suspicious enough to wait for the next car, and what excuse would you use? I imagine some mean looking bully standing loitering in a lobby, and as I notice him I veer away from the elevator mumbling something about being in the wrong building because I don't want him to steal my lunch money.
As for the dog issue, how exactly do you show a dog that you're submissive - roll over on your back?? Again, my vivid imagination springs to life, picturing me grabbing a nearby child to use as a shield per my government issued instructions while I repeatedly tell the dog that it's the boss of me.
While I would never want to learn just how valuable this information is (what if I actually need to use my running shoes to escape?), I can't help but be grateful for it now because of the giggles it has brought to me. Thanks, US Government, for looking out for my well-being in the funniest way I can imagine.
8 comments:
It sounds like you are a census Jack Bauer!
Maybe you can explain this jacked up census form. On every form I have ever filled out "hispanic" is considered as race. You know you check white, black, hispanic or whatever. The census considers "hispanic" not a race and therefore my daughter is racially "other"
A lot of people I've talked to write in "Latino" or "Hispanic" into the box for other at the bottom of the list. Personally, it bugs me too and I'm always a little embarrassed somehow when I have to tell people that it doesn't count - whatever that means!
Ten years ago I also served my country as a census enumerator. I had a wonderful time, really. The intensive training was awesome, but it sounds more awesome now in the post-9/11 world. Uncle Sam wasn't so concerned with threats at that time--we were trained to be sensitive and professional (no gawking when someone revealed their income, no casing their house, etc.).
Wonderful memories, and as always, I love your blog.
I think I should have had that intensive government training when I was a home health nurse.
It seems to me that the government should issue spiked running shoes to all census workers. Just think how you could stomp on hands reaching out from under the car, kick attacking dogs, fend off suspicious people in the elevator and then run fast out of harms way.
That might be the most brilliant idea I've heard in a long time, Aunt Jamie. Plus, it's so much harder to say no to someone wearing spiked shoes!
I often hide under cars, but I don't charge out from under them. That's too uncomfortable. I just reach out my arms grab their ankles and pull really hard. Then when their flat on their face, I sic my attack poodles on them, and rip off their shoes so they can't run away. If they were wearing spiked shoes all my planning would be for nothing.
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