Hi. I’m just about ready to talk about my job. Let me just point my Winamp towards the Dead Kennedys classic, “At My Job”, for effect.
When I returned from my Christmas vacation early in January of this year, I found myself in an odd situation. Overspent, with only 70 dollars in my pocket, and unemployed. At least I had taken the time to think ahead, and had paid my rent in advance. Good thinking, there, Ice!
But, you see, having only 70 dollars in your pocket means you need to start getting busy finding a source of income, which leads me to the topic at hand.
I contacted the temp agency I had worked through prior to December, and the next day they told me they had a job for me. Factory work, again, but what the hell? Being that this happened through a temp agency, the pay sucked, but x bucks an hour, where x>0 seemed like a good idea at the time. Upon asking how long the assignment would be, I was informed of it being an on-going thing, and that depending on my performance, the company I worked at would eventually hire me after three months. The nature of my work for the company would be that of operating a dunnage washer machine (put dirty plastic trays in one end, pick them up clean at the other end and stack them – not exactly how I envisioned myself in five years, five years ago).
On January 11, I arrived at the company for my first day of work, hoping the three month period would fly by fast, so the company would hire me. By the time April 11 rolled by, I was just about ready to sign my contract, when I was informed that said contract did not exist, yet. Still no hiring. Well, those things take time. I shook it off and went back to work.
It was around this time that the company began suffering from a shortage of forklift drivers, so I offered myself to take a job as a driver. That washing thing was starting to wear me down (it was pretty physical – not in the sense of heavy lifting, but walking from one end of the machine to the other 400 times a day, six days a week), and being that they needed drivers, I saw the opportunity and I took it. Plus, the pay would jump to x+2 bucks an hour (for the short period I assumed I’d be working through the temp agency).
I took my forklift training (an 8 hour session which consisted of watching a 30 minute video and the trainer sharing 6 hours of anecdotes, plus the practical test, which consisted of picking up a metal bin and driving around with it), and voila! I became a licensed forklift operator.
The issue of being hired on by the company became more pressing, but there was never a definitive answer. All I heard from everyone was that apparently everyone was happy with my performance, and that it was just a matter of time.
Along came july, and my then supervisor informed me that the temp agency had elected me as “associate of the month” for June. After a brief ceremony, I was sure that by now I’d be hired. I mean, who wouldn’t hire me? Fo shizzle.
More recently, my bike got stolen. I only noticed when I left for work, so I knew I’d be late that day. I phoned in, and went to take the bus. When I arrived, I bumped into one of the bigshots. Manager of something or another. He asked about my bike (how he knew is beyond me), and then shared with me this jewel: “We’re going to be hiring you real soon”.
On one occasion, the head honcho, the Plant Manager, pulled me over and personally congratulated me on my work and my driving.
On another occasion, my direct boss took me outside for a cigarette and told me he was doing everything he could to get me hired because I was “much better than some of the other guys”, I had a great work ethic, and in a nutshell, I kick ass.
And let’s face it, I don’t mean to compare myself to anyone, but they know when they need something that goes beyond the call of duty, I’m one of the few who’ll agree. “Can you work saturday?” “Can you work sunday?” “Can you cover 12 hours for another guy?” “Can you run the whole floor by yourself?”. I’ve only answered negatively on two occasions, both for good reason. One saturday I had made plans with my sisters (after they had told me I’d have the saturday off) and one sunday they wanted me to be there at 7.30 AM (after working until 11.30 PM on saturday). There’s no buses on Sunday at 7.00, and the rain made the idea of walking there a little less appealing. But other than that, I’ve been there, proven myself and, well, if I may say so myself, kicked ass every day.
Of course, I am not flawless and have incurred in a couple of incidents, but fuck, who hasn’t?
Anyway, this brings us to friday, October 13th. If I were superstitious, I wouldn’t discuss important issues on friday the 13th, but since I’m not superstitious, I did anyway. Fuck, I wish I was superstitious.
After hearing time and time again that they weren’t going to hire me, because of “corporate decisions”, “anticipated slow production”, “____________ (insert random excuse here)”, I began to worry not about being hired, but about being laid off. So, I went to talk to my supervisor about the company’s plans for me, come 2007. After leaving his office, I wanted to laugh, I wanted to cry, I wanted to kill someone. Everyone. Noone. I just went outside for a smoke. A nice, relaxing smoke.
Turns out, they might hire me. In june or July of 2007. After removing me from the forklift and putting me on the dunnage washer again. “But, just for a couple of months”.
I think Anthrax said it best: “two steps forward, a hundred steps back, we’re going the wrong way”.
That, and the fact that I want December for myself, to take care of things 2,500 miles away, has me thinking about my future. And that, my friends, leads to stress. And stress leads to high blood pressure. And that is never a good thing.
Now, just because I still have some time left, and just to keep my mind away from the other aspects of my life that are grinding me senseless, I’ll share with you a couple of anecdotes from my workplace.
Anecdote 1. Getting shit for stuff you didn’t do
There’s a guy, another driver… I have nothing gainst him on a personal level, but man, is he stupid. The most dunderheaded driver of the lot. And he loves to help. Unfortunately, half the time he doesn’t know his own asshole from a cupcake. But since it’s *my* area, when he fucks up, I get the shit.
Anecdote 2. I serve too many masters
What could be more motivating than taking orders from your superiors, you ask? How about taking orders from people who don’t even work there? The guy that picks up the recycling bins, truck drivers… fuck, all I need is for the lunch truck lady to start bossing me around.
Anecdote 3. Of suicidal minds
For those of you who don’t know, the average forklift weighs 5 tons. Sure, they’re not fast (there’s a reason you never see video games like Need for Speed: Forklift Underground), but they can crush you like… well, pretty bad. If that weren’t enough, they have two long pointy metal things at the front. Why people love walking in front of them, is beyond me. I’ve had a couple of good scares. Fortunately, I’ve yet to hit anyone. The worst offenders are line supervisors, who think a little too highly of themselves and look down upon us lowly drivers, and one guy who everyone in the plant agrees is “dumber than a fucking snake”.
So anyway, thanks for listening. I promise to stop bitching and whining about everything, and start creating articles and reviews. In the meantime, stay heavy!
The Iceberg
