testing

Before I worked in a testing center, I had no idea the number of professional certification and licensing exams were out there. 

When a tester enters, we all start to mentally make guesses as to what test they're doing. Some are more obvious than others. 

• Dirty fingernails and a shirt with their name on it, usually male = automotive tech
• Early 20's, female = elementary school teacher
• Teen = GED or HiSET
• Broad shouldered, big boots, equally male or female, actually = firefighter or law enforcement
• Lots of tattoos/ piercings, male or female = addiction counselor (probably with a "past")

But really, anything goes. And there are plenty of ambiguous testers. The most ambiguous is probably the insurance people. They are anywhere from dapper law office types to rather rudderless types that were preyed upon with "MAKE A CAREER SELLING INSURANCE! YOUR SKILL SET IS JUST WHAT WE'RE LOOKING FOR" - yes, I've received those emails...

At home this morning, I was finishing up my breakfast when I heard some chatter outside. Being the nosy neighbor that I am, I peeked out the front window to see what's what. Four young guys exiting a pickup truck.

Tree guys, must be.

There is a test to become a Certified Tree Climber. We get those too 

• Young, male, very tan, agile looking, facial hair, lots of pockets = tree climber

And now, based on my nosy observation

• Taking hits from the vape pen

I'm glad there's a test for such a job. Climbing a tree can be dangerous enough, let alone doing so with an operating chainsaw.

Sure enough. Another pickup with a mulcher attachment pulled up. I was momentarily encouraged, hopeful they were here to prune the neighbor's overly enthusiastic pear tree. It's gotten huge, has some damaged branches, and is flopping over the fence onto our property. 

We've pruned our side, but the rest should probably be done by a certified tree climber, which neither of us is. Magnum mentioned it to the nice neighbor, who rents. She said she'd put in the work order to the property manager, but none of us are holding our breaths.

And now, I can hear the chainsaws sawing, but not next door. 

Maybe by the first day of Christmas.