Excuse me, Sir . . . |
Census.
That process, every few years, when the Government gets to perform ‘roll call’.
So to speak.
In 1981, Mom applied for, and was awarded, the job of Census supervisor.
The job entailed working closely with a team of women who quickly became her friends.
The work was, for the most part, fairly mundane, as each of the women went door-to-door, collecting information on who lived there.
There were a few ‘hold-outs’.
And one or two downright nasties.
But the group managed to get the work done.
Noses counted.
And reports filled out.
It was time to celebrate.
Mom suggested that they all go out for a commemorative Chinese Food dinner.
Reservations were made.
The women gathered.
Eating and hilarity ensued. Mostly at my Mom’s expense as her co-workers proceeded to ‘roast’ their good-natured and long-suffering boss who had become such a good friend.
The end of the meal approached and fortune cookies were duly delivered to their table.
Each person seated there selected one.
Then they made a game of standing and reading their fortune aloud.
Finally, it was Mom’s turn.
She got to her feet.
There was a breathless pause. (Hey, it’s my story; I’ll tell it how I want . . .)
Mom grinned. “Oh, this is entirely appropriate,” she said. “It’s time to make new friends.”
Who says you can’t find truth in a fortune cookie?
This was too, too funny! P..S. In 1970 I was a census taker-an interesting experience indeed.
ReplyDeleteI'd love to hear about it, Alana!
DeleteDid it really say that? Or was she just making it up? Either way, sounds like it was a great experience for all.
ReplyDeleteIt actually said it! Sometimes 'perfect' just happens! :)
DeleteI expect census-taking these days could be more on the nasty side and less on the mundane side. Thank goodness she had an overall good experience!
ReplyDeleteI think you're probably right. Sigh.
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