Diary of an American Community Survey (ACS) Field Representative
Sep 1st, 2007 by Alex
Due to a poor laptop security policy, here are some snippets from the diary of an American Community Survey (ACS) Field Representive.
Friday, 6 July 2007, 5:55PM
Every single time I want to take the wife down to Rehobeth for the weekend Mr. Fancypants Fitzpatrick strolls into my cubicle like the boss from Office Space at ten minutes till five and tells me that I’ve got an ACS field case this weekend. Fuck. I don’t want to do it. I’m pretty sure that I hate the ACS more than the subjectsresidents that are supposed to be filling it out. I always get the ones that don’t want to be interviewed.
My office sent out the notice letter, followed by the survey. Three weeks went back with no response so they sent another letter with passive aggressive undertones. We threatened to fine them and sent out another copy of the survey just in case it got misplaced. I hope they don’t use Google to find out whether we’ve followed through with this. It could make my live difficult.
Sunday, 8 July 2007, 12:15PM
I drive up to the place and park in front. Not a bad neighborhood. I won’t need to wear my bulletproof vest this time. The place is tall. No open windows. I grab my laptop and strap it to my arm. I look ridiculous, like some technician on Star Trek but without the cool uniform. I ring the door bell. I don’t hear the bell, but that’s normal for a place this size. The laptop is booting up and getting a bit warm on my arm. I give the door a few hard knocks with my knuckles. That’s a solid wood door. No answer. I peer in the window. No movement. Nothing. This laptop is burning my fucking arm. I turn around and see my Sable. They don’t even issue us Suburbans with AC for this stuff, I’m stuff with a POS Mercury Sable. I get in the car and stuff an envelope with the ACS literature and my business card. I get out of the car and shove the envelope into the door frame. I go back to my car and wait for a few minutes before taking off. No one is home.
Monday, 9 July 2007, 7:30AM
I need to send a form letter to the resident to inform them of my visit. They really need to call me, I’d like to get this over with and get to the beach. Maybe I can get one of those young secretaries to write up for me.
Thursday, 12 July 2007, 7:30PM
I figured I’d swing by on my way home from the office. The house is dark but I knocked on the door anyways. No one is home. I parked out front for a half hour before going home. It’s meatloaf night. My wife’s meatloaf is awful and it should be cold by now. Maybe I’ll pickup some fried chicken on the way home.
Friday, 13 July 2007, 8:17AM
I had Sheila send another letter to the resident, insisting that they call me. Maybe they owe money or something. I don’t understand why no one ever answers the door. It was windy the other day, maybe the card slipped out. Or maybe the neighbors are picking up the business cards while the residents are on vacation.
Tuesday, 17 July 2007, 9:15AM
With my supervisor’s approval I sent another letter to the resident, just in case they mistook the U.S. Department of Commerce envelope for the U.S. Department of Corrections. Our internal statistics indicate that this happens more often than you think. We get a lot of phone calls about Dwayne’s upcoming parole. His family sure is excited.
Tuesday, 17 July 2007, 8:30PM
They’re going to pick up their mail and know that I’m coming. I told my wife not to wait up and I drove out to the resident’s home again. There was a light on! I rang the door bell. Nothing. I peered in the window and didn’t see anything. I gave the door another hard knock, taking care not to hurt myself. The USDC won’t pay any more sick leave out due to knuckle injuries and my doctor says I need to be more careful. Where are these people? I wonder if they’re on vacation and the lights are on a timer. Ah well, I’ll leave another business card on the door.
Saturday, 21 July 2007, 2:00PM
Ah ha! There was a car in the driveway! Someone must live here! I tucked a business card under the windshield. I hope the person isn’t just visiting or one of the neighbors is using the driveway while the residents are out. That would just suck. If only we had the power to run the license plates to see if they really lived here, we’d know if they were avoiding me or not. Damned federal laws. Even with the Patriot Act they’re all about restricting our access to everything!
Saturday, 28 July 2007, 4:15PM
I don’t know why I even bother. I doubt they’re home. Either they or they’re giving me the slip. I won’t make my presence known this time. These people are ruining this country. I’ll just park my car down the street and see if someone comes out. No need to leave my business card this time.
Monday, 30 July 2007, 8:00AM
Mr. Fitzpatrick is pissed. Twenty-two days without a single contact. No response for this survey. I think there’s some period of time that they have to be collected in. Maybe that idiot Fitzpatrick’s bonus is tied to the response rate. I asked him why we just don’t fine the resident. He said that the funding for fines went out the window after the first few months. Kinda ballsy to bluff like that, isn’t it? I could have gotten this one though. It would have been easier if I had a phone number for the resident. I could have been pestering them to talk to me from the comfort of my couch at home. Only eight hours until I’m out of here, unless he comes back with another assignment.
I need a new job. This crap just isn’t satisfying anymore.
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