|This is an order picker|
When you hit middle age you really only have two choices: you can get fat and lazy until you roll over and die, or you can can get off your ass and do something, like maybe ride a bike.
I've also been told I have little tact, so if this offends you simply ride on.
Wednesday, February 11, 2015
The nice guy vs the smart ass pumpkin
The minute I got to work last night aforementioned Cathy, who'd proclaimed she was a "worker" started whining. "I'm so sore. I had to take 2 Aleve. And use a heating pad." My sympathies were not with her since it had been her helper, Andy, who'd been up on the order picker Monday night. She stood on the floor for most of her shift and told him what to do. And what was he moving? Light bulbs. Silly me, I wasted my breath while reminding her I'd been moving around 5 gallon buckets of paint. Believe me, walls are more interested then she. Anyway, she popped her helper back on the order picker and went to play around with exterior light scones while I went and played with rolls of 100 x 20 foot 8 mil plastic (the weight in around 75 pounds). By 0230 my overheads were finished and I had to use busy work to fill in the next 2 hours.
Around 1100 this morning I called to let them know my overheads were in tip top shape and they said "we know. What do you want to do?" And I said, "Hhhmm, I thought I'd take a couple of days vacation." And they said "would you want to come in and help Cathy?" And I turned into a smart-ass and said "nope, she's a worker. She can't wait for these overnights." Of course, she's behind schedule. It's not that her helper isn't moving fast enough, she just isn't helping. I'm taking vacation for the next 2 days. However, to prove there is a bit of a 'nice guy' hiding on the inside, I told them I'd give her 4 hours on Friday evening. Only until midnight, though. When the clock strikes 12 on Fridays I turn into a smart-ass pumpkin.
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