...You...Me...
10:29 PM EST -- And they wonder why I'm so dismal on the job
Another "exciting" day at work was about to end when suddenly, my manager tells me "Nick, go see what's up at the bottle return." This is not entirely unwarranted; the only working glass machine is buzzing away.
Stop me if you've heard enough of my bantering about the bottle return.
Grumbling something about wanting to leave in a minute, I walk over to the bottle return to find, sure enough, the glass machine is starting to overflow. The limit check they installed on the damn things don't work at all, do they? Not caring much for the fact that Tomra complains about overfilled bins, I proceeded to close off the bin and haul it away, doing it properly, with the rubber gloves and all. (They don't seem to be teaching the new bottle return people to clean the machines, so there's no chance in HELL you'll get me to readily do ANYTHING around those machines without gloves)
The gloves are also supposed to protect me from the harmful effects of very small sharp pieces of glass. Very useful.
Well, not really. No sooner than I had the bottle machine changed did another machine beep away. Swearing all the way, I changed it, too. But, when I went to thwack the "Reset bin full alarm" button, I felt a SEVERE stabbing in my hand. Sure enough, a piece of glass stuck onto the glove and dug it's way through the rubber when I hit the button.
"Bleeding hell, I'm bleeding." Well, not really that badly. It was more or less one of those types of cuts you kinda want to stop. So, I made a trip to the first aid box to find a bandage.
No such luck. Nobody stocks the damn thing.
Clocking out, I headed to the Meat department's first aid kit. They typically have more common sense than we do in the first aid department.
Nothing there, either.
Think I should file some safety violations?
NEW NODES TODAY: Non-sequitor fu, fighting logic, The Big Banana