The following is a transcript from my enlightening conversation with the guy who checks my ticket on the commuter train. His name was Gary, I believe. But I’m not sure, so let’s go with Sasha. Sasha was kind enough to take a short break from his ticket punching duties to talk with me last Friday night. He’d had a long week, I could tell, but I really wasn’t interested in hearing his stupid life story.
Me: Sasha, are you embarrassed of your job?
Sasha: What? Why?
Me: Well, you have to wear that stupid little hat, for starters…
Sasha: I don’t HAVE to, I want to. It projects authority.
Me: But the top of it is mesh. I can see right through it. And you’re stashing tickets up there, on your head.
Sasha: You aren’t supposed to be able to see that.
Me: OK! So how soon until robots do your job?
Sasha: I don’t think that will happen. Robots could never do certain parts of my job.
Me: Like what?
Sasha: Robots can’t wear hats, as far as I know. Now, my information may be wrong.
Me: No, that’s absolutely correct. I hadn’t thought about that.
Sasha: Do your research next time, Woodward.
Me: How do you deal with all the hobos?
Sasha: This is a commuter train, there aren’t any hobos.
Me: What about that hobo right there?
Sasha: That’s a professional woman. She’s reading a book.
Me: Ah, ridin’ the rails!!!!
I very much enjoyed my talk with Sasha. He didn’t feel the same and I completely understood.