the Unitasker

Contrary to how I sometimes feel, my job consists of numerous tasks and duties for which I could compose a relatively lengthy list. I perform several specialized functions and when I’m not occupied by one of those I still manage to keep busy by scanning or making ultimately worthless charts in Microsoft Excel. Occasionally I even find myself busy as “postprandial chocolate errand boy,” or “google-this-topic man”.

It’s come to my attention in India that there are many jobs whose entire function, the summation of the criteria of the entire job, can be summed up as one, often quite simple, task. For instance when I walk into the local electronics shop: there’s a door opener, a man who follows my eyes and tries to grab everything off the shelf as I glance at it, a man who enters my purchase into the computer, a man who takes my money, a man who gives me my change, a man who places my purchase in a bag, and, then, the door opener again.

A common job consisting of a single task is the “stamper.” The stamper stamps. He’ll stamp your food order, he’ll stamp your airplane ticket, he’ll stamp your letter, I guess he would even stamp your hand if you asked. I like to imagine the stamper going home after work and soaking his hand, or continuing to pound things compulsively; I imagine both the fatigued and the chronic must exist.

What’s interesting though is when these unitaskers fail in their unitask. You would think if not out of pride for a job well done they would at least want to complete the task out of a desire to avoid criticism, considering it comes so easily: “x only had to do one simple thing, how could x mess that up!” x only had to add up my bill of two items, x only had to not lose my package, x only had to bring us the same number of menus as people, x only had to…

One quick example: at the Taj Mahal there was a man who took people's shoes as they approached the mausoleum and in return gave them a paper indicating the cubby number in which the shoes could be found. Then, upon departure, he took your paper and returned your shoes. I guess this could be argued as two tasks, but let’s leave it for the sake of example. Upon my return I gave him my paper, reading something like 58, and he ensued to search seemingly aimlessly for my cubby. Even though this man was only in charge of cubbies 50-59, and even though I could see the cubby and my shoes just 10 feet in front of me, there he was searching up and down and all around.

Eventually he happened upon my shoes and the task was complete. I tipped him; not for the service but for the experience.