Laughing in the New Year

During the near 15 years I’ve spent working at my current job, I’ve worked on all three shifts in the service department and during that time I have gained a plethora of stories. To help set the scene I will explain that I work for a company that builds and sells utility trucks the power companies use to put up telephone poles and repair power lines and trim tree and such. Some of the trucks dig holes with large drill-bits called “Augers” and some have buckets on them to lift people high in the air. I’ve proud of the company I work for and the equipment it produces and have enjoyed the experiences it has provided. In celebration of the coming New Year, here are three stories that occurred during my time on 3rd shift. There were three of us working third at the time; myself, Jeremy and Randy, who was the team leader on the shift. We worked a 4/10 shift meaning we worked 10 hours a day 4 days in a row usually 7:30 pm to 6 am Monday – Thursday. It was a great shift and I learned a lot from both Jeremy and Randy during that time. I remember once…

We had had a really tough night trying to remove a large steel hinge pin that held the boom to the truck. The pin was probably about 4” in diameter and around 2’ long and rusted in place. We spent most of the evening heating the sockets that held the pin in place and pounding on it with a sledge hammer. Eventually we moved to pneumatic jack-hammer and after several hours we got it apart, but it fought us the entire way. Around 5:30 am 1st shift would start to show up and Randy would meet with the day shift team leader to get him up to speed with what we accomplished on 3rd so work could be continued. During this time, Jeremy and I would put away our tools, fill out our paperwork and clean up to go home.
On this morning, clean up took less time because we were only on one truck most of the night so Jeremy went outside to have a smoke and I joined him just to get out of the shop for a couple of minutes even though I don’t smoke. It was winter time and while we were standing there and I saw, out of the corner of my eye, a very large snow pile over in a corner of the parking lot about 75 yards away. Abandoning all reason and with a foolish chuckle I took off running at this snow pile with visions of childhood playground antics flickering through my over-tired brain. Considering the distance from the pile, I had gathered quite the amount of momentum when I reached the pile and dove, shoulder first, into what I expected to be a cloud of feathers and marshmallows.

It turned out, instead, to be an oppressive mountain of concrete and anvils.

It hadn’t occurred to me that the last time it snowed had been several days ago, thus allowing this innocent snow pile melt and freeze a few times. As I collided with this unyielding blockade of joy all the air I had taken for granted moments ago left me like a kid from a Christmas sweater. I, in fact, bounced off and landed in a crumpled, bruised and gasping heap on the frosty asphalt. I didn’t even leave a mark much less visible evidence that I had hurled my entire weight at Frosty’s obese evil cousin.
After a couple of minutes to reboot the software in my head and do a systems check for any obvious damage, I slowly got up and limped back to where Jeremy was standing. After a couple of seconds of silence he asked without looking at me “Sooo, How’d that work out for you?” I remained quiet until we went inside.

…

We usually took a break around midnight or 1 A.M. depending on the jobs we were doing. I remember we were sitting down near the coffee pot we had out in Service eating when we heard a noise come from the Bay 6 Service door. For Perspective, the service shop has 10 work bays each with a large garage door big enough to allow a full size utility truck to drive inside. In the garage door in bay 6 there is also a small man sized service door that can be used to go in and out of the shop. We looked at each other then looked in the direction of bay 6 and we see a woman emerge from between the trucks in bays 5 & 6 and asked “Can someone jump me?”

This, in fact, rarely occurs.

As from one of the stories that men allegedly read in those magazines featuring bow-tied bunnies, a dazzling, and somewhat tipsy, woman in a tight black cocktail dress and high heels has just walked into our service shop in the middle of the night and asked for automotive assistance in the form of zesty innuendo. After a quick, muttered deliberation, it is decided I will go forth and see how this adventure plays out. I ask where her car is at and she explains that she is parked in the lot across the street by a small office building. I tell her I will meet her over there.
As I pull into the lot, I see her standing next to an S.U.V. with the hood up and accompanied by yet another well dressed woman. I begin to wonder if there are camera men in the trees or hidden around somewhere until I see a sharp dressed man step into view. “Oh well”- I think to myself and pull up in front of the dead vehicle. I get out, get my cable from the trunk and begin hooking the two vehicles up all the while being showered with “Thank You’s” and praise for doing this. The story comes out that there had been a celebration that evening and of the trio before me, the man was the only one sober enough to drive, although I believe a breathalyzer may have had a differing opinion.
I quickly got the vehicle started, disconnected the cables, and put them away. As I was turning away from closing my trunk I was hugged first by the lady who came into the shop and then by her friend. The man made an offer of payment, but I declined and asked that he help someone else out should he get the opportunity. He then demanded giving me a beer which I refused because I was, after all, still on the clock. In the end I agreed to take three cans, one for each of us on 3rd, and have them with the guys at the end of the shift. He shook my hand and we parted ways. He went home with two beautiful women and I went back to the shop where I was asked about a magazine ending of the story. Sadly, the article was more Popular Mechanics then Playboy.

…

The trucks we work on are big. They commonly have equipment mounted on them that can lift a person 55’ to 90’ in the air. When these units are stored for transport the booms often hang out in front of the cab. Consequently, being a mechanic working on these units requires you to work on ladders often. These machines lead hard lives working in harsh weather conditions and sometimes not subject to the maintenance recommended by the manufacturer and so the use of a hammer is sometimes needed to encourage forward progress of a task. In other words, sometimes you have to smack the crap out of something to get it apart or put it together and often you have to do it standing 8’ off the floor.
One day, I was tasked with removing a metal bracket that was no longer needed from the side of the boom. The bracket was a plate with a lip on the outer edge that was welded to the boom and resembled a small shelf maybe 6” long and 4” deep. It was welded on only one side so the best way to remove it would be to cut those welds, remove the bracket and grind the area smooth. The problem was the bracket was bent down over the welds so you couldn’t get a cut-off too up in there.

Enter, The Hammer.



The hammer was an old sledge hammer with the handle cut down to allow one handed use and looks as though it would be at home amongst the personal possessions of the local Thunder God. This is my “Finisher” hammer because once I’m done with it; the job is finished regardless of completion. I decided to go with my finisher because the bracket was made out of fairly robust metal and I didn’t want to be up there all night, banging away on this metal piece, and annoying my co-workers. So up the ladder I go with Mjöllnir. Due to several factors the only real way to land a solid hit was to stand on the ladder with my back to the ladder and using both hands, swing the hammer up like I was bumping a volley ball. I had considerable success with this method right up until the plate was bent to an angle to deflect the blow straight into the right side of my forehead. The blow was hard enough to be heard 30’ away. I stood there stunned for a moment, pretty much oblivious to everything as the glitter in my shaken snow-globe of a brain settled once again. I then began my descent from the ladder. As I reached the bottom Randy asked if I was OK to which I responded “I need a cup of coffee and a couple of moments to let you know.” After a few minutes, I got myself recalibrated and finished the job. So the hammer worked, just like I said it would.
I fully expected to develop a large and colorful bruise I could proudly show off as a “Badge of Bad-assery” earned from working with big tool but all I had was a headache and bragging about getting a headache after hitting one’s self with a hammer doesn’t have quite the effect one would desire. However, a couple of days later I discover a bruise on my knee. Searching the database I come up with not event that would cause a bruise to my knee and so I have decided that, so awesome was the power of the hammer-blow that, I actually knocked the bruise from my forehead to my knee.
…
So there you go, three more glimpses into the life and times of Me, your humble host here in Abretokia. I hope the coming year brings you all great wealth, health and of course laughter. I look forward to entertaining you for another year.