Wednesday, August 16, 2006


Yes I've deliberately misspelt the title, to combine two words expressing today's activity: the damn census, and a hot chic.

It's a play on words, and no the hot chic and I weren't playing with each other!

(Okay, so maybe it wasn't the best use of my creativity!)

Anyhoo, over the last couple of days I've been at my folk's place doing my daily duties as well as helping out the old man's business.

As I've been here I've noticed that the census people haven't picked up my parents completed census form, which I guess is strange considering the census people came over within about a day or two and picked up my completed form.

Being rather busy this morning I wouldn't have opened the door to anyone, but with the unclaimed census form staring at me from the hall stand the door was knocked twice today... and both times I thought it would be the census person and both times I was wrong.

First, we had the lawnmower dude who felt the need to show me every weed around the property and how he was going to get rid of it. He then proceeded to continue knocking on the door and give a treatise on each weed's pathetic existence in this life.

On any *other* normal day I probably would have entertained what the bloke was saying and may have actually learnt all the Latin names for each weed that dotted my folk's place, but not today. Today I had the lawnmower mouth - and if it weren't for the phone ringing I don't think I would've ever gotten away from it.

Eventually the guy took the hint and stopped knocking on the door. In fact, every time he knocked I just used my mobile phone and rang my folk's number! That worked a treat!

(Man, I'm evil.)

When he finally left after spending over an hour pulling weeds another silent hectic hour passed until there was another knock on the door.

Alright! Census folk!

I happily opened the door and was met by two ladies: one younger, one older.

"Hello," I said wishing that I had her as my census person.

She stopped and stared at me for a little while and the silence was almost deafening. In a way I kind of enjoyed it that she didn't immediately ask for my folk's census form because I was enjoying the view.

Stammering she finally found her tongue and asked if a blonde chic lived here.


(Both my parents have black hair, and my brother and sister are more brunette. I'm pretty much the only one that can be classified as blonde, and so I was beginning to think that maybe this census person was lost, or someone was playing some poor trick on this girl)

"A blonde chic??"

I looked out toward the road and saw a car parked.

Had someone been involved in an accident?

The cat had caught the chic's tongue. Silence fell on us again.

"I came over the other day and I gave someone with blonde hair my card," she said.

By now, as you can probably empathise, I'm as confused as a dyslexic with a dictionary!

"Errr... it could have been my sister," I didn't know, but unless my parent's were keeping a blonde chic in the basement as a 29th birthday present for me I just had to guess it was my sister.

"Is she here?" she asked.

"No, she's not."

She doesn't even live here I was going to add, but that would've meant saying goodbye and giving up a good view!

(Told you I was evil.)

"Well maybe you can give her something for us."

Now I was beginning to think that this was either the weirdest census form collection I had ever seen, or, it wasn't a census collection form. Heck, if it weren't I wouldn't have known any different if they asked for it and would've got all my parent's details for free!

She then proceeded to reach into her handbag and pull out a couple of magazines.

The penny dropped.

I was talking to JW's.

Great! I sighed, Why are all the hot ones either Catholic or JW?

The chic, who now introduced herself as Celeste handed me two Watchtower magazines - one was on marriage, which she was quick to talk about.

By now I'd had already spent waaay too much time away from the desk. If it had of been any other normal day I would've expounded a few things to them about their beliefs such as asking them whether she was one of the lucky 144,000 going to heaven, where in the Bible it says Michael and Jesus are the same person and probably a whole heap of other things that I can't remember right now.

But business was calling... the phone rang again and I had to quickly thank them for their time and answer the friggin phone.

I love JW's. I really do. They're truth seekers, but as with discovering the truth the biggest hindrance in trying to discover it is believing you already have it. JW's are almost there, they just slip up on some topical things.

Anyway, I've given up on answering the friggin door. Those census people can leave an envelope and we'll post the stupid form in the mail.

Alright, enough of me complaining, my lunch break is over.

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