It’s 8:30 Do you Know Where your Enumerator Is?

I’ve got this dumb young black chick assigned to me. We have to meet in cars because the coffee shop doesn’t open till 9am. This morning she got in my car with her long polished nails as her boyfriend (I assume) waited in her car, to turn over her meager completed work, absolutely reeking of perfume. Even though it was pouring rain I opened the windows and turned up the blower. I asked her lighten up on the perfume next time as I am allergic. Stupid me – I should have said I can’t participate in this meeting because I have a medical condition, and then made my crew leader work with her. Dumb little bitch took my pen, too.
I did point out to Big Mama that there are issues working with Mercedes. She doesn’t respond to phone messages, isn’t available for work, and I have a scent allergy. Big Mama has to discuss this with her boss. Big Mama asked me “well, if you can meet her inside will it be a problem with her perfume (picture her waving her fat arms like propellers) in here?” She needs to not wear any.
I don’t have a bona fide allergy. I just gag a bit and have a little problem breathing. But I have to make accommodations for so many other people with their special needs, so damn it, I’m gonna get me some of my own!
Otherwise, work performance is up. Turning in more completed interviews, keep my mouth shut and don’t try being helpful, and see how long I can get paid $16.00/hour. It is not in our interest to work quickly – once the job is done, so are we.
Very interesting is the picture of America I get. Very diverse, very complicated, serious housing problems.