At work I needed to gather data regarding how many boats are being launched at the various accesses throughout the county (Don’t ask details, just accept that it’s a good thing and will help better allocate resources. Remember, I’m a trustworthy guy. After all, you’re reading this with an open and loving heart.). In order to accomplish this, we enlisted the help of some car counters, just like what you see on highways gathering information. The only thing is that these are super cool car counters. They look sort of like spy wear. An electronic device so cool that you would not want to try and carry it into an airport. Trust me (again), that would be a bad idea. A very bad idea (no really, trust me on this one). Any who, they are really cool and use an infrared signal for detection, so they can be buried a little under the ground and work just fine.
The super cool spy wear car counter. In the hands of such an awesome bureaucrat, it will be a powerful data collection tool. I smell an incredible spreadsheet in my future!
Well, I needed to test out the unit and ensure that it only picked up cars and boats, rather than people taking a stroll. First I tested it in front of my office, buried in a flowerbed. Sure enough, it was only picking up cars and not folks walking into the building. Next up, bury it at a boat access and see what kind of data it collects.
It was a rainy Friday, when I had all of the pieces assembled. I grabbed a shovel and headed out for my test. Standing in the rain in my black suit and dress shoes, I acted quickly. I dug a shallow grave, placed the unit in the ground, reflected solemnly on my handiwork, threw the shovel back into my car, and headed out satisfied with a job well done. I was at peace. Returning to the office, I let my boss know what I was up to and gave the Sheriff a heads up, in case he got any strange calls about a creepy guy walking around with a shovel burying suspect electronic devices.
Returning on Monday, I brushed aside the dirt and observed that the unit appeared to be working fine. Success. Maybe I had a future as a super spy with all of my covert gear and suave attire.
Heading into the office, I saw my boss and gave him the good news. Then as an aside, he informed me that the park manager had given him a call. Apparently, there had been a suspicious man wearing a suit and carrying a shovel, who drove up to a boat access and buried a box. The park manager’s thought, “He is burying ashes by the side of the lake.” And that is how my budding career as a super spy ended. In a shallow lakeside grave. Oh and by the way, if I pass on, please don’t bury me by a boat access. Take a little extra time and scatter me onto the lake’s surface. A much better resting place for a bumbling wannabe super spy and a much better place for me to count boats from the great beyond.
Rest in Peace, ultra-cool car counter. Ah a super bureaucrat and his toys.