I got a job!
For the last three weeks, I have been working on the 2010 US Census as a “Non-response follow-up Enumerator”, which means I am the guy they send out to addresses who don’t mail back their census forms. Yes, straight into the jaws of the loners, the anti-governments, the too busies, and the generally cranky.
Ok ok, that is an exaggeration- it’s really not so bad. I break it down like this: 20 percent are super nice. Here we have the old ladies who invite me in, the young Dad who I interview while he does the dishes and tries to keep his rowdy, hollering kids from making too much noise, and the middle-aged Japanese woman who engages me in a thirty minute conversation about, what else? The recession and the crappy jobs that come with it (she went from a top-selling art dealer, to the clerk at a 7-11; go figure).
Then the next 35% are run-of-the-mill courteous, door stoop interviews. Not trying to have a heart to heart, but just getting down to business friendly-like. Smiles exchanged, sometimes a little joke about a question (there are some silly ones: my favorite Do you sometimes stay somewhere else for any of these reasons? College, military, … IN JAIL OR PRISON, nursing home, etc. Who freaking plans on spending time in prison, or considers it a place they stay sometimes? See, kinda silly).
Then comes the all business, at about 35%. I got no problem with these: I’m doing a job and they’re doing a job. Its fast, there’s a thank you at the end, I’m on my way and you’re off the list.
Now we get into the soul-sucking section, the let-me-drag-you-through-the-oppressive-hole-that-is-my-life section. Here we get the “I am too busy for this (PS my life is worth more than yours)” crowd. Thankfully, this last one’s just 10% of my assignments. You can tell these by the way the door is cracked only enough to expose one eyeball, and the door begins to shut upon every statement made. This is where I start to feel like I am selling something, like I have to prove my worth, prove that I am worth these apparently precious seconds I am taking up. My chest tightens up and my voice becomes shrill as I try to squeeze assuaging words referencing things such as school and road money through that ever-closing crack in the door. This usually does no good and I resort to hollering “how bout just a head count number” through the closed door, usually getting no response (this is fine though, I just go next door and ask them how many people live in that person’s house).
These people, the too-busy-to-communicate-like-you-are-a-person-just-like-me’s used to get me down. I used to plan and plot on how I could present myself as most beneficial to them and worth the time; how I would orchestrate the words that I said. This did nothing but bring me down even further when door met face.
I had to realize, it’s not me… its them. It’s their choice to live a life in which you are asshole until proven beneficial, foe until proven friend. I think a big reason this is modus operandi for these people is that they themselves have low self-esteem and feel powerless, and the way they deal with that is be unpleasant to everyone they have the power to. In my opinion it does nothing but darken their days; really, what do you have to look forward to if you approach every thing and every one you come across with the most off-putting scowl you can muster? Pretty much just loneliness and ulcers if you ask me.
Yet at the same time, I can see where they are coming from. Door to door solicitors are annoying, and I kind of look like one. But I think that more than just a preconditioned response to solicitors or an entrenched low self-esteem, the scowl, the crankiness comes from a place of fear.
People feel increasingly vulnerable in the presence of strangers. News of terrible things happening to people who open their doors to strangers seems to come every day, such as the atrocious local story of a man who was killed, his family assaulted, and his house burglarized by people pretending to respond to a craigslist ad. These sorts of stories are scary. Who among us doesn’t view such a situation as a living hell?
Herein lies the choice. You can either choose to live a life governed by the fear of the unknown, the fear of the random, poor, tortured soul who is a regular on the five o’clock news, or you can acknowledge your powerlessness over this scenario. If someone wishes to harm or rob you, they will. It’s just a fact of human society- as individuals we are vulnerable. We sleep, we get drunk, we interact with people we don’t know, we have eyes on only one side of our heads. Those are facts of life. Feeling like anything as petty as maintaining an outwardly mean, too busy persona is going to save you in case of that hellish scenario is just creating your own, personal version of a hellish, lonely life.
So smile and take the damn census. Thanks.
