I left banking in the mid seventies for purely financial reasons. I was an officer and making a little over $6,000 a year. Banks in those days believed in giving a title in lieu of a raise. The job was clean, I loved who I worked for, worked with, and adored working with the public. I just really needed to eat. I never learned how to cook a title. As most of the banking positions were filled by women, banking was looked upon as a great job to supplement the income of the husband but since I was divorced, it meant I often worked two jobs to make ends meet.
Then I heard about the salaries of a large electric utility company. I was stunned. In the first year, I could expect to earn $4000 more than I made at the bank and that was as a beginning meter reader which was the standard entry level job. I had never thought of working outdoors to make a living. Like many women my age, I had grown up thinking the only opportunities for employment being either in education, health, retail, food service, secretarial or customer service. Times were beginning to change.
Quite a bit nervous for I had 10 years with the bank, I applied. I lost the first opening due to my age. Meter reading is physically demanding and for the first time in my life, I was being turned down for age. Yikes. My potential boss said he really wanted to hire me but since a younger person had also applied, management was insisting he hire her. He promised me the very next opening which came quickly when the younger woman quit because it was too hard. Hum, that was a bit daunting.
I was in so I told my bosses at the bank I would be leaving. They asked what they could do to make me stay and I said, give me a $4000 a year raise and another assistant. They didn't really laugh but neither did they agree. I was told by our Human Resources fellow that had I been a man, I would have earned $10,000 more for the same job. In a months time, I was hit with age and sex discrimination that would not fly today. Ladies, be glad times have changed. But this was then.
The job was very hard. Walking ten miles a day was not unheard of and this was in the hot Florida sun. There was the heat, the thirst, jumping fences and of course the dogs. If you read meters as you were supposed to, you would be bitten by dogs, and many times. I had fourteen dog attacks during my days as a meter reader. In one of those attacks, I was bitten 17 times by the same dog. But,that is for another day.
This particular day, I was in a nice neighborhood but one I had not been in before. We only worked a route for 3 months, then were given all new ones. As a result, we never really got comfortable in a route. They didn't want us to form fast friends that we might be tempted to do billing favors for.
There were two telephone guys working the same area that day. I am not sure what they were doing (it had something to do with "pairs" that I didn't understand) but we kept running into each other and we started kidding like old friends as the day wore on. Meter reading is a very solitary job so when you found someone to talk to even briefly, you took advantage.
I was starting down one side of the street and they were almost directly across from me. I waved as I approached the gate. I had a warning card that said there were dogs so I rattled the gate to let the dogs know I was there and to see what I had to deal with. All was quiet. I rattled again and called out but still nothing. The yard showed obvious signs of dogs but I figured they must be in the house. Most people were good about putting up the dogs on read day.
I opened the gate and latched it behind me. I had learned that lesson early after chasing two fat Pomeranian one day for an hour when they got out because I had failed to latch a gate. As I turned the corner of the house, my breath caught. The back door sported one of the largest doggy doors I had ever seen.
Then,with an absolute explosion of snarl and howl, three very large German Shepherds slammed out that very door. There was maybe ten feet between us. Teeth were bared, slobber was flying and they were screaming their intent to rip me to shreds. In those days we carried a hefty book to write the readings in and that was my only weapon out side of an umbrella I was carrying that day as it had rained on and off and we were not supposed to get our books wet.
Not my picture but multiply by three and remove the hefty restraining guy and you can imagine what I was faced with. The dogs I faced were thankfully not professionals but they took their job seriously.
We also carried pepper spray but the wind was blowing directly in my face so that was not a good idea. I popped open the umbrella which backed them up briefly but then they flanked the umbrella and I was hitting at them with the book. This rewarded me with several wounds to my hands. I was backing towards the gate and cursing the fact that I had latched it.
That was when I heard shouting behind me. My two phone guys had heard the ruckus and had come flying across the street to my rescue. They opened the gate for me to ease through and swung palm fronds at the dogs to back them off. These were two of the most beautiful humans I had ever met. I thanked them profusely as they took me to their truck to patched up my punctures and scrapes.
After I had been thoroughly doused in peroxide , the shaking had calmed down, and as the last band aid was being applied, one of the guys just shook his head.
"We know how much you all are paid and Mike and I have have been discussing today that we thought you all were grossly overpaid to just read meters." He paused long enough for me to feel a bit offended. Then he shook his head again and said,
"Lady, they don't pay you near enough."
That day and all those days where we were basically chew toys for dogs, I had to agree.
Hope you will remember this when your meter reader comes to call. A lot of places now use remote, electronic reading but for those who still have the person come into your yard, please be kind. Put your dog up, if it is a brutally hot day offer them a drink, but really, just give them a smile. They have a really hard job.
