I Needed A Midol Last Night

Last night was not good for me.  I slept restlessly yesterday, with weird, disjointed dreams, but woke reasonably rested.  I was sore, though.  The previous shift, I was cleaning up the juice storage area, so I was up and down the ladder a hundred or more times with heavy cases of various liquids.  My legs made sure I didn’t forget this abuse.

When I got to work, they assigned me to pull the old freight from the freezer, which I hate.  This did nothing to help my soreness, or my overall mood.

After lunch, I was helping unload the truck.  Initially, I started pulling freight where it needed to go.  This was a refrigerated truck, and the first few pallets went to the produce cooler.  All produce pallets are supposed to go into the cooler except for melons, bananas and potatoes. I was the first one down to the cooler, so I had to spend a few minutes making sure it was organized in a manner that would ensure that everything would fit into the cooler.

The next three guys behind me waited patiently.  As soon as I was clear, they dropped their pallets in the staging area outside the cooler that is normally reserved for freight that does not require refrigeration.  The problem was that the freight on these pallets was supposed to go into the cooler.  I said as much, and it was like the extra ten feet that they needed to move it was equivalent to a hike across the Sahara without water.  Fucking lazy bastards.  I went back to get another pallet.

While I was fighting with the cooler, a few pallets were unloaded that were doubled – a pallet with freight, then another pallet with more freight on it.  I am one of few licensed operators, so I got the electric lift truck to “downstack” these pallets.  After downstacking, I moved them through the back room area to a location near the door so it would be more convenient for the guys who were going to take them to their respective locations.  The back room was packed, so I had only a couple feet of clearance on each side for part of the way.

That also happens to be where the computer terminal is located.  The hourly manager and another employee chose this time to use the terminal for something.  By rule, nobody is supposed to be within fifteen feet when operating any of the power lifting equipment.  After the umpteenth “excuse me” was ignored, my nerves were shot. It would have been on me had either of them stepped back into my path and gotten injured, but somebody had to do it.

Finally, I parked the lift truck out of the way and went looking for the manager.  The hell with these fucking idiots.  I was ready to go home.  Before I actually found her, I had cooled off enough that I decided to stay the rest of the shift.

None of these events, or even the sum total of the events is particularly remarkable or out of the ordinary for work at BigBoxRetailer.   Normally, I would have just blown off the imbeciles, and went about my work.  For some reason that I will never understand, it just got on my nerves last night.  Which is the reason for the title of this post.

When I got home, I grilled three burgers, topped them with cheese, fresh sliced tomatoes and jalapeños from the garden, and enjoyed being home.  Even if my feet and legs were still raising hell.

Advertisements
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to I Needed A Midol Last Night

  1. Larry says:

    1. Working is a hell of a way to make a living.
    2. Some people are alive only because it’s illegal to kill them.
    3. (completely unrelated) my toys will be here tomorrow. I’m ordering projectiles this weekend.

    • alaskan454 says:

      1. I couldn’t agree more.

      2. Absolutely, and I have several names on my list in case it ever becomes legal.

      3. Excellent. I’ve cleaned out a respectable path to my bench, although it is currently hosting my onion harvest. They will be dry and properly stored before your projectiles arrive, though.

  2. denny says:

    Lol. Bitching about walmart? Sure it sucks ass, but who fucking cares? Don’t cry on the internet about it. I work those produce pallets you hate so much so get a fucking life.

    • alaskan454 says:

      For the record, I wasn’t crying. Bitching, yes, but not crying. For the record, this is my corner of the fucking internet, and I’ll do as I damn well please here.

      Get a life? I have a life, my man. You’re the one stuck working those pallets. Perhaps you are the one who needs to get a life.

      In any case, thanks for taking the time to comment, even though you will probably never make it back to read my reply.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s