they pay to kiss your feet

since there's no one else around, we let our hair grow long and forget all we used to know. then our skin gets thicker from living out in the snow.

Thursday, June 23, 2005

Big aspirations.

Yesterday, there was an old junker type of car in the middle of one of the busiest intersections in the city and it was just parked there. I passed it on my way to Quick Trip and I thought I saw the driver sitting there, looking out the window. But it was 80 degrees already at 7:30 a.m., so I figured the driver had probably bailed to go get help or gas. I passed the car again on my way back down the street toward work. This time, though, I noticed a sign on the badly dented rear door that read “Traffic Counter.” That’s right, traffic counter. Someone’s job is actually to sit and count the traffic as it goes by. I wonder if Mr. Traffic Counter had to do all of the counting by memory or if he had some sort of system to help keep track. Is he allowed to use a calculator? How does his employer know he is being honest? Maybe he counts aloud. I think traffic counters must get bored. I’m sure listening to the radio would be distracting and they’ve got to get honked at often and maybe even flipped off sometimes. I thought Mr. TC must have been bored and hot and sticky and his brain probably hurt from the sheer numbers of cars going by and then I thought that maybe I should be a traffic counter. TCs probably make more money than I do and maybe they even get a company car. And I bet they don’t have to work 40-hour weeks. I wonder if I could be a freelance traffic counter. I’ll look into this.


  • At 1:01 AM, Blogger cyouincourt007 said…

    muahahahaha....I want in on this gig

  • At 12:57 PM, Blogger Happy In Bag said…

    Hey, TPTKYF. I have a message I'd like to get to you and your husband. Please email me:


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