For the past little while I've had the pleasure of working for the municipal governing body of my residing civic centre, and my title is both prestigious and highly sought-after. Yes. I am a Data Collector.
What does this mean to you? This is such a general term I could be doing anything from interviewing toddlers to picking up dog poop. However, it is actually much more exciting than that! I count cars. Cars turning left, cars turning right, cars going straight through the intersection!
Currently, I am also responsible for the difficult task of differentiating between single axle and dual axle trucks, between a pedestrian going with or against the traffic on my side of the street, and noting occupancy. Now, if all I had to do was figure out how many nutella-smeared 6 year-olds soccer mom #12 wedged into her land cruiser (dodge caravans are so 1998) in the playground zone adjacent to Canadian Prime Minister elementary school, then perhaps my eyesight would not have deteriorated quite so quickly. As it is, I now mistake semi-trucks for motorcycles with two passengers.
Perhaps the best part about this job, was how I acquired it. I don't actually remember applying for it, but I definitely remember the interview. Three out of the four questions asked of me were entirely relevant, but the last one, "Tell us about a time when your life was disrupted. What happened, and how did you handle it." is more than a little puzzling, especially as the only clarification I received was "Oh you know, for instance, when a family member dies."
Now I'm not really sure what they were expecting, maybe, "Last week my twin sister got run over by a dual-axle truck carrying petrol. Not only did the contact between human and truck rend her unrecognizable, but then the hull of the truck cracked and the whole thing exploded. But not to worry! I have no grudge against dual-axle trucks and will count them like I would any other vehicle on the road." Or maybe "My grade three art teacher sexually harassed me with his entire Modern vs. Ancient Transportation portfolio (acrylic on canvas) but I managed to get over my fear of both horse-drawn buggies and motorized vehicles within a year, thanks to counseling and a friendly Honda CR-V".
Since none of my coworkers got asked this question, I'm assuming I was the first guinea pig interviewee and Dick told Jane that after that shitshow he'd be the one doing all the talking.
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