[109] Screed City

[109]

03/03/2022 Thursday. Cushioned Stool. Room 218. Home 2 Suites by the Airport. Albany, New York.

Fucking hell, is what I say. I come home to the hotel room and somebody has been poking around. Cleaning the toilet. Taking the trash out. I mean, there wasn't one of those doorknob hanger jobs that tells the cleaning crew to get lost, I mean, they have papers dangling all over the hallways and lobby and whatever saying they aint going to clean your room unless you ask, so I thought I would be just fine, but noooo, these fuckers with their loo-chippers and plastic bags. I mean, it is like having an unexpected visitor when you have just taken a shit or something and they ask to use your bathroom. I mean, it is very invasive and embarrassing. I mean, at least I made the bed this morning. Not very well, but it was made. And the dishes were done. But still, a little heads up would have been nice. I mean, I don't want some stranger coming around rooting through my shit without my permission, I mean, I think most people like this service, personally I hate it. Shame on them. Shame, shame, shame.

I hate to say it, I mean, I don't mind saying it, but I am growing quite fond of Sally. I mean, I don't know if it is some sort of Stockholm Syndrome or what, but I think she might be a good person. The other two boobs, I am not so sure about. But Sally is good. I mean, earlier today we were up on the loading bridge watching Jayboo and Billy running cable, making sure there were no snags and she looked down and watched Allan for a minute and said "That boob."

I mean, she knows. I mean, that led me to say something like "Well, the things is, you have to break the boobs down and then build them up again if you want to be a foreman." For some reason she loved this. "Break the boobs down. Ha!" She repeated. Then she repeated it again later. I mean, I don't think she considers herself a boob, but she knows she is boob adjacent. I think I am going to give her a Dishwasher shirt tomorrow. See how that goes. I mean, she also laughed when I told her my foreman origin story. About how I was working for I Wiess and one day they needed a foreman and how everyone was standing there. Then I looked around and I was suddenly standing in the front because everyone else had backed up. And how I quit that job because it sucked and I vowed never to become a foreman ever again and how it happened again. Without my consent. But at least this time the money is good.

I mean, I got my paycheck for last week. Four days. $1,544.06 after taxes. I mean, $400 dollars a day take-home just watching boob on boob crime. I mean, considering I have a GED and could give two shits about my upward mobility with respect to this job, I mean, that comes close to $100,000 dollars a year before taxes go away. I mean, middle class here I come! I mean, I would never ever work that much, but you get my point. It's not too bad, is my point. It still is not the embarrassing amount of money I feel like I should be paid to do this shit, but it is getting closer.

We kind of knocked it out today. We did a Tom Sawyer move that worked wonders. I mean, Jayboo was champing at the bit from minute one, but so what, he could only get the work done as fast as they would let him, I mean, he really can't stand this work dynamic. And it is very frustrating to have to deal with his attitude about it all day. Especially when he keeps talking about how sensitive and weak everyone is because I don't know, they don't want to be bullied anymore? I mean, I really need to figure out how to disengage him when he talks like this. I find it toxic. But, I mean, I had my diatribe about it last night, no need to revisit.

We got all but six line sets running. We hung the main curtain track and pipe. I mean, that was where the Tom Sawyer maneuver came in. The boobs were absolutely confused about what we were doing. Which, I mean, we rope-a-doped them into working really hard and really fast. They didn't want to let on how confused they were. And, I mean, hanging track is kind of the least intuitive thing we do on these jobs, but still, it is all very simple. They just couldn't wrap their minds around it. So, I mean, a job that under normal boob circumstances would have taken half a day only took an hour and a half. And now there is some breathing room for tomorrow and what happens next week. I mean, I think we could be done on Tuesday. I mean, we will see how tomorrow goes. Jayboo has a doctors appointment so he won't even be in until 11a, so, I mean, we will see what happens. But if we get four more line-sets finished that will be good. Leave us two for Monday. The lighting rail. The second traveler. Leveling. Miceing. The card holders or whatever you call them. The placards. Deal with the first line-set that we are still waiting on the shoes for. I mean, clean-up and load-out. I mean, it is basically one day of work. Times three boobs and the boss of the boobs. Meaning me, I mean. Get out by Wednesday end of day and say see you later, suckers.

Jayboo did one thing really annoying today. Which, I really need to figure this out in my life. How to say no to bullies. I mean, because it is bullying. It was pointless and was really just a battle of wills. I mean, I created a system. A very good system that reduced fuck-ups to basically zero. And, I mean, I had no intention of changing the system. But Jayboo really, really, really just wanted to blow through all the work. As fast as possible, why? I don't know. I mean, I really don't know why. I mean, doing stupid shit just to do shit is stupid. I mean, every time we would hang a pipe I would let the boobs and Jayboo deal with the hardware and whatever, then I would go over and mark the new pipes. 5'7 1/2" and 16'10 1/2". From the center. That was my job. Their job was to do the other stuff. But Jayboo insisted, INSISTED that I mark the pipes under the pipes that I was marking. I mean, my whole point with this, my entire point with this was to not get ahead of ourselves. If it pipe wasn't marked it wasn't ready to hang. I had all the trusses coupled in pairs. That way we would always know when a pair was or was not finished. I mean, it was so very easy to delineate, but I let myself get bullied. I let Jayboo force me to mark pipes that were not ready to be marked. And, I mean, this sounds petty probably and maybe even defeatist, but I disagree, the system worked and it worked well and for days now we haven't had a single problem. Until today. I mean, because of the way we marked the un-ready pipes something got confused in the markings. We hung those pipes. They were dangling. But something was wrong. Even Billy knew something was wrong. Which, I mean, imagine adding four new chefs to a soup at just the very last second before the soup is done. I mean, to quote the bridesmaids. I mean, the marks were off by a foot. But because of the pure chaos that ensued, the unnecessary chaos that ensued it took us twenty minutes to figure out what went wrong. Feelings were hurt. Some work had to be done twice. Did I mention this did not need to happen at all? Oh, I did, okay, let me rephrase this then, THIS DID NOT NEED TO HAPPEN AT ALL.

I mean, when Jayboo was bullying me I said "You are fucking with the system, I hope you know that. When shit goes wrong I am going to blame you." He just laughed that off. But when I blamed him he didn't see it that way. It was my fault because I was the guy that did the markings. And it was my fault, not because of that, but because I let myself be bullied. I mean, I need to work on this sort of shit, but the problem is I didn't disagree with Jayboo, I just didn't agree either. And he saw that opening and he took his opportunity. I mean, whatever, I don't hold it against him for wanting to get shit done, but at what cost?

I mean, the motor hoists came out today. To yank the truss that we hung the main curtain track to so we could transfer it to the dead hung points. I mean, I don't know why I thought we had the big boys, the bigger chain motors. I mean, there was some mis-communication along the way. I mean, quarter ton chain motors are tiny little things. No trouble at all. I mean, maybe I mis-remembered what boxes the big boys came in? Or maybe I mis-remembered ever even using them in the first place? But I embarrassed myself when I realized what we were using. I mean, the amount of thought I put into the eventuality of using this tiny little guy should feel me with shame, because there was no issue at all. I mean, but that is good. I gathered a little extra information for the future. Like that children's book, what is it called? About the artist mouse that collects memories of the good times for when all the mice run out of food in the Winter and they think the artist mouse is a lazy asshole because instead of working he is doing art stuff? That one. The book is the mouse's name. Victor or something. Fredrich! I mean, like that, but with chain motors.

The work site is doing a real number on my nose and lungs. I woke up today feeling like shit. I mean, I normally would be paranoid that I got covid, but I have been here before. The work they are doing in the auditorium is all sheetrock and grinding and hammer drill masonry. I mean, my body is working overtime. I got dust in my tear ducts. Stuff stuck in my nose that will take days to go away. I mean, I slept like a donkey last night. Because I couldn't breathe. I mean, I hope I don't have covid. I meant to bring the test I have with me just in case, but I didn't and now I feel very irresponsible about it all. I mean, like I said, I have been here a million times before. A couple days on these job sites will fuck you up. And the only covid related symptom is the paranoia that I have covid. I mean, maybe I will stop and get a test in the morning on my way in. That is if I still feel lousy. I mean, the damage has already been done, I mean, I guess, and if I have it, somebody else gave it to me. And everyone else was complaining the same way I am complaining now. I mean, we either all have it, or nobody has it. I mean, I should test in the morning. I will test in the morning.

I took the van back to the shop. Had a meeting with the Big Boss. He was surprised that we would be done next week. He didn't expect it. I said I would give him a full-report about how to deal with the union when we are done. He said that he hoped to never do another job like this again. I mean, that kind of makes me think I won't make out a report. I mean, if he doesn't care, then who the hell else would? I mean, my instinct is that we will, or BMI will, and that this information would be very helpful, but I am not ambitious this way. So, I mean, such is life.

I guess that is all I got. Nothing else happened of note. I made a joke at one point because I hung some caution tape on the lift lines that were supposed to be cut two feet above where the other lines were cut because they had a larger arbor. I said "This isn't caution tape, it is gentle reminder tape. So you can remember to mark these different." Nobody thought my joke was funny. Maybe it wasn't? But gentle reminder tape? Pure gold.

I mean, I picked Junior Mint up from the shop. Drove it back to the hotel. There is plenty of gas. I will pick G up from school after work tomorrow and haul ass to Portland. Then the wild weekend with PegLeg and Brother Luke and Phyliss. Then on Sunday we will haul ass back here and I will get G home and come back up to Albany to finish the part of the job that we can finish until phase three when we hang the acoustic shells and the drapes. I mean, they have to finish the floors before the drapes can go in. And I don't know what is happening with the shells and the electrics. But I am on a need to know basis and I don't need to know shit.

I mean, I guess I will catch you on the flip-side. Stay warm. Winter is almost over. Later days.