So the other day at this craptastic Summer job I have, someone stuck their hand into one of the machines. The factory makes cheap plastic containers for all kinds of things, like cell phones and jello salad. Anyway, they had to reach past two protective guards to do it, which are there to remind you not to stick your damned hand into the machine. Well, some parts were jammed up, causing some problems on the machine, and instead of calling for one of the quality inspectors or technicians to come fix the problem, she reached in to pull the jamed parts out. She went to the hospital, two fingers being split open to the bone at the knuckles.
On the one hand (ha!) I have no remorse for someone who’s going to squeeze past two layers of guard rails (marked in yellow with CAUTION written on them in red) and get injured. On the other hand, the job is a tedious, mind-numbing one, and last week I had masochistic thoughts of shoving my hand into the thing. Luckily, I’m a complete wuss, so I’m still accident free.
Today they put me on a machine that the technicians didn’t want to hook a part sorter up to. It was moving too fast for three people to work on it (most machines have only two people, or one if it’s slow enough), so the sorter went on anyway. The technician was so pissy that he didn’t put on the guard rail. A day or two after a hand injury on the same machine. Idiot.
And now, for your enjoyment, here’s the Kids in the Hall sketch that was running through my head all last week while I was packing cell phone charger packages.
http://thetravisty.com/Kids_In_The_Hall/wmv/Compensation.htm
