Tax dollars at work
We went to Yan’s China Bistro for dinner tonight. Just a local Chinese place, nothing fancy. BJ took us out (thanks, BJ!) and we enjoyed the pot stickers, Mongolian Lamb, chow mein Hong Kong style and the scallops in black bean sauce.
The fun started when we got home.
This house is never locked–it would just be silly. There are 21 French doors, and anyone with a rock is going to get in if they want to. On the other hand, we’re well off the road, down a long driveway behind a gate. Not many strangers find their way here.
So we were a bit taken back to find a form from Census, noting that they had been here and missed us and would we call them. And find it on the ledge inside the front door. Our loyal civil servant had managed to step into the house to leave his missive.
Alright, strange enough. But then, an hour later, Gail and I were playing bridge online in the office when we heard shouting from the living room. “Sherrif’s Office!!! Anyone home??!!”
So I go out to investigate. Sure enough, there were two sheriff’s officers, looking in the living room and den. They said the door was wide open. I said I didn’t realize that was a crime, and what were they doing in my house?
Turns out, the little cretin from the Census Bureau found it necessary, in his intrusive governmental way, to call the police and tell them that my door was open. So the cops hurried over to make sure I was alive–I guess only dead people leave their doors open.
When we got rid of the politzei, I called the number on the Census note, and told the little cretin what a jackass he is. Tomorrow, I call the Census Bureau.
Don’t we all feel safer now?