Wet and dry
Very wet patrolling today. It being Friday there were plenty of malefactors who thought that as it was tipping it down they could do what they pleased. As I think about the days events the phrase ‘fish in a barrel’ sidles into my consciousness. However, if I’d stayed out any longer in the rain I think I would have started to evolve gills and fins.
Not that I’m a ‘Ticket hound’, desperate to get my ‘quota for the day’. If they are blatantly begging to be booked that’s their own silly fault is my view.
My problem was an unscheduled visit to the mess room by Senior Manager while we were all hiding from the rain. He was not impressed.
“What are you all doing in here!” He demanded.
“It’s raining hard out there.” Someone protested.
“I did not give you permission to go onto Wet Weather.” Snorted his imperious majesty. “We pay you to be out on patrol. Come on!”
With ill grace and much muted swearing we allowed ourselves to be ushered out on patrol. I was peeved because I’d come back for my morning tea break and was waiting for a gap between showers to get out under a nice dry awning or archway. Now here we were, being shunted out at a time not of our choosing into the wind and rain.
There’s going to be a little comeback this time, because enough of us feel that Senior Manager is bang out of order on several counts. The first being that our kit is not properly waterproof. Showerproof okay, but not for conditions like today. The radios and little hand held computers are also not designed for continuous immersion. Our note books are of the cheap and nasty persuasion that disintegrate in high humidity, never mind proper rain. The second count being we get very wet very quickly in conditions like these, and if the Union won’t back us up on this one then we’ll invite a couple of others in to pitch to us and see if that wakes them up. The third is I wonder how our illustrious leaders will react when half our number goes down with the resultant lurgi.
I wouldn’t mind so much if there was a little carrot to go along with all the stick we put up with. If any other section of the Local Authority was run like this, the outcry would be heard in the next county, but as we are the much hated Parking Enforcement Officers, they think they can treat us badly. We are the modern day lepers, doomed to stalk the land startling ordinary, unblemished mortals with our habitual cry of “You can’t park there, mate.”
One of these days I’ll get round to getting a life, I’ve heard they can be very nice.
Not that I’m a ‘Ticket hound’, desperate to get my ‘quota for the day’. If they are blatantly begging to be booked that’s their own silly fault is my view.
My problem was an unscheduled visit to the mess room by Senior Manager while we were all hiding from the rain. He was not impressed.
“What are you all doing in here!” He demanded.
“It’s raining hard out there.” Someone protested.
“I did not give you permission to go onto Wet Weather.” Snorted his imperious majesty. “We pay you to be out on patrol. Come on!”
With ill grace and much muted swearing we allowed ourselves to be ushered out on patrol. I was peeved because I’d come back for my morning tea break and was waiting for a gap between showers to get out under a nice dry awning or archway. Now here we were, being shunted out at a time not of our choosing into the wind and rain.
There’s going to be a little comeback this time, because enough of us feel that Senior Manager is bang out of order on several counts. The first being that our kit is not properly waterproof. Showerproof okay, but not for conditions like today. The radios and little hand held computers are also not designed for continuous immersion. Our note books are of the cheap and nasty persuasion that disintegrate in high humidity, never mind proper rain. The second count being we get very wet very quickly in conditions like these, and if the Union won’t back us up on this one then we’ll invite a couple of others in to pitch to us and see if that wakes them up. The third is I wonder how our illustrious leaders will react when half our number goes down with the resultant lurgi.
I wouldn’t mind so much if there was a little carrot to go along with all the stick we put up with. If any other section of the Local Authority was run like this, the outcry would be heard in the next county, but as we are the much hated Parking Enforcement Officers, they think they can treat us badly. We are the modern day lepers, doomed to stalk the land startling ordinary, unblemished mortals with our habitual cry of “You can’t park there, mate.”
One of these days I’ll get round to getting a life, I’ve heard they can be very nice.
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