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The blue van with the official markings of the city pulled up and parked. Two people climbed out, clad in the blue uniform of the municipal parking enforcement agency. They walked over to the nearest parking meter and attached a strange looking canister to it. One person was working, the other seemed to be observing…

And thus begins my entry for Nixy Valentine’s Writing Adventure Groupлегла challenge #10, “The Professional”. This time we were asked to observe and describe someone we see around us, someone performing an everyday job we know little about. As usual, my imagination got the better of me.

Please note that this is pure fiction, even though it was inspired by actual observations.For details about the WAG, as well as links to the other participants this week (as they become available), see below.

Metered professionals

The blue van with the official markings of the city pulled up and parked. Two people climbed out, clad in the blue uniform of the municipal parking enforcement agency. They walked over to the nearest parking meter and attached a strange looking canister to it. One person was working, the other seemed to be observing.

My eyes were on them, I couldn’t help it and I’m sure they felt it. There was a scandal a few years back, where employees of the agency embezzled money from parking meters, a lot of money. For some reason that scandal had the normally docile inhabitants of this little city up in arms. Perhaps it was because we hate parking meters so much.

The strange looking canister is supposed to prevent theft and I suppose always working in pairs is another countermeasure. They moved along the row of meters, emptying each. They didn’t talk, nor did they look at their surroundings.

I felt sorry for them. Imagine working in such an environment of distrust, of feeling like you’re being treated as a crook, even though you’ve done nothing wrong. Or maybe that was just me projecting, perhaps they didn’t talk simply because they had nothing to say? In fact, perhaps people like me, who can’t forget the scandal, are the only problem they face in their job, the only thing making it unpleasant?

The two men had reached the end of the row of meters. One of them detached the canister from the final meter and they started walking back towards their van. The street was quiet, except for a few pedestrians like myself and a lot of birds. The sun was just rising above one of the mountains surrounding the city.

By pure chance I passed the van just as they were loading the canisters through the open rear doors. I couldn’t help but notice an odd looking contraption in there, nor could I possibly miss the look the two uniformed officials sent each other as they realized I was right behind them.

They hurriedly closed the doors of the van, but it was too late, I knew what I’d seen. One of the canisters was connected to the contraption and there were some loose coins on the floor of the van. The men stood there, squarely and silently, staring at me.

I knew I should have crossed the street.