You want me to move what?!Every summer the local agency snapped up every available student to pack out the local factories. Jumping on board I was sent to huge book warehouse that was inexplicable manned by just 4 people; a smug boss, a forklift driver and two old women who seemed to do nothing more than discuss 'women's problems' and drink tea. My task was thus: the forklift guy would bring in a pallet stacked high with boxes of books from another warehouse and drop them off by the door, i then used my tiny pallet truck to drag them all the way across the huge warehouse. Bearing in mind that im not a particularly big guy, my pallet truck was broken and I couldnt see any discernable reason why the forklift guy couldnt put them there in the first place (although it apparently 'wasnt part of his job'), I wasnt filled with joy. So as the queue of pallets increased it became apprent that neither man nor beast was capable of moving them by hand - although the smug boss proceeded to demonstrate how 'it was in the action' you used. All his action managed to do was to tip the pallet and cause about 20 boxes worth of books to cascasde across the floor. Sensing my next task was to clear up the mess I made a hasty bid for freedom and went home.
A few hours later the agency rang up threatning me for breaking my contract, but after telling them that I had been injured in the accident (a small porky) I was considering making a claim...I never heard from them again...
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Wed 12 Nov 2003, 12:44,
archived)
A few hours later the agency rang up threatning me for breaking my contract, but after telling them that I had been injured in the accident (a small porky) I was considering making a claim...I never heard from them again...
That reminds me......of the time I spent in a drill warehouse in north London, just down the road from Wormwood Scrubs. There were two temps (me and a Falklands veteran helicopter engineer) plus a grizzled old black guy called Leroy (true!). I nearly killed myself one day lifting a *really* heavy box of drill bits onto a shelf a foot above my head. My arms were shaking and I was that close to dropping it on my head as it bumped on the shelf.
When things were quiet, we used to use the pallet truck as a huge fuck-off scooter and see how quickly we could race round the warehouse - brilliant fun, but not as good as real diesel forklifts on a rainy day at the builders' merchants.
Those things get up quite a speed in second gear, and with bald tyres you can have a lot of fun cornering at speed on wet concrete. With the really low centre of gravity there's not a big risk of turning it over, though the shared spliff in the yard-boys' hut did add a little hilarity and danger to the situation.
(,
Thu 13 Nov 2003, 14:55,
archived)
When things were quiet, we used to use the pallet truck as a huge fuck-off scooter and see how quickly we could race round the warehouse - brilliant fun, but not as good as real diesel forklifts on a rainy day at the builders' merchants.
Those things get up quite a speed in second gear, and with bald tyres you can have a lot of fun cornering at speed on wet concrete. With the really low centre of gravity there's not a big risk of turning it over, though the shared spliff in the yard-boys' hut did add a little hilarity and danger to the situation.