[112] Screed City

[112]

03/08/2022 Tuesday. Cushioned Stool. Room 204. Room 2 Suites by the Airport. Albany, New York.

Well, a couple things happened. One, Allan came to the job site first thing. Wearing a mask and his "Street Clothes." Clean pants and shirt and sneakers. I found it very, very awkward. I felt bad as well. I mean, whatever. I just had a thought, like two minutes ago that he was %100 percent not needed today. I will tell you why in a second, but I mean, I feel bad because he was genuinely interested in the job. He was making his dad proud about it. I mean, I accidentally used his hank of leftover rope to tie the extra truss to the second line set yesterday. So, as a parting gift I unspooled about 20 feet of op line and gave it to him. Courtesy of BMI. I mean, he didn't want to beat me up or anything. I mean, obviously I was making a face because he said "What's wrong?" I said "Oh, I just feel bad for you, being sick and all." To which he said "I said I was sick, I'm sick. I don't lie about that." Which kind of exposed his hand. Which, I mean, like a bear, he was more afraid of me than I was of him. Not that I was afraid he would do something. I just know that had he stuck around for just a few more minutes, or even if he was wearing work clothes I would have hired him back. And I did say that next time I would ask for him to come on board. I mean, if there is a next time, and I am in charge of the operation. I mean, I meant it. In a way. He works just as good as Sally does. And he complains less. The problem with Allan is that he is afraid of heights, which makes him kind of useless.

The second thing was, I took Scott's advice and told the Big Boss all the problems that were happening. I mean, I was going to do that anyway, I just delayed yesterday because I was shocked by the new work and also just burned out and didn't want to deal. But at break today I called the Big Boss. He said that had he known that the stage weight manufacturers were going to use a plasma cutter instead of a water saw he would never have used them in the first place. And that I should do whatever it takes to get that job done. And that everyone who was there should have a grinder in their hand. Which, I mean, I kind of liked that. The way he said it. I mean, the Big Boss is a little hands off, but that kind of nudging is helpful. And kind of poetic. I told him about the missing 280 track and how Allan was removed from the roster. We talked about the load-out tomorrow. He really didn't want to drive the Box Truck in Albany. He was nervous about it. I said we could figure out how to do it with the Sprinter van. He said good. Then I told him to come around 2p. He said he would.

The day started with us, me and the boobs, getting everything together to start grinding up on the load bridge. Which meant electrical chords and ear mints. Masks that I bought on the way to work from Home Depot. This little stool thing that Billy wanted to use as work table. We went up to the load bridge. Billy and I. Started grinding. Or, he started grinding. I took the things when he was done, tested them and then re-stacked them. It was pretty awful. After a while the sparks were too much so I yelled down for Sally to get us some plywood. She found some. I took the scissors lift down to get it. Brought it back up. Then we needed some other stuff. The rope I took from the back of the van two weeks ago finally came in handy. We hauled it up with an electrical chord. Then we sent it back down. Tied to the railing. At some point two of the saw horses came up and we made a better work table for Billy. He claimed he didn't mind doing the work, but he didn't like doing it. At some point Billy yelled down for Sally to put a bucket on the end of the rope because we needed some smaller items. She poked around for a while. Came back with a used drywall mud bucket. Which didn't come into use before break. We grinded and tested and re-arranged all morning. Until break. Then I called the Big Boss. We had the conversation I already told you about. Which led to the idea that Sally needed to come up to the load bridge. Billy really didn't like that she was just standing around on the deck. I mean, I don't blame him, but for me, I mean, I knew how much time the job would take. I calculated. Two and a half minutes per brick. We were going to be doing this until lunchtime tomorrow. And that was that. No reason to bring Sally and her piss-attitude and cigarette smoke up to the loading bridge. But Billy saw it different. So after break we spent half an hour, maybe more, getting things together so Sally could come up and work with us. I mean, the amount of time wasted just getting her ready and up there, I mean, I am not saying it wasn't worth it, I just don't know how worth it it was. I mean, I put her in charge of half-bricks. She did about one to every two and half of the full bricks that Billy did. But that was not the point. I mean, for him. For me, it just meant having someone else hogging space and meant twice as much work for me because I had to move all the bricks at least twice now. And I couldn't use the space were she was set up. Not to mention that we borrowed a welding blanket so for the rest of the day I could feel little shards of fiber glass tearing into my skin. AND now there was two grinders going at all times. Sally complaining every inch of the way. Smoke billowing from her Sonoma cigarettes. But whatever. If it kept Billy happy then it was okay by me. Annoying, but okay.

We grinded and re-arranged until around 1030a when it became obvious that the battery grinder that Sally was using was basically useless. The batteries couldn't keep up. Plus Billy was tearing through grinding discs. I decided to go to the Home Depot to buy another chorded grinder and some more disks. I said I would be back in 30 minutes. It took me 28 minutes. I bought a $44 dollar Ryobi chorded grinder and all the 4 1/2 inch disks they had. Which was four. Those cost $5 dollars a piece. I mean, it was nice to get away for a second. When I came back I could hear all the grinding going on from across the fucking street. I mean, through the walls of the building. I mean, it wasn't just us. The steel guys were grinding too. I mean, it was a fucking nightmare.

I mean, to go back to before when Sally put that bucket on the end of the rope. Billy pulled it up and shook his head. Then yelled down at Sally "Hey! If you are going to send a bucket like this up at least dump the water out of it!" I happened to be on the deck at the time. I went over and looked in the bucket. There was an inch of water on the bottom. As well as wet dry wall mud. I mean, it was pretty funny. But what the fuck?

Sally got a new, dry bucket to replace the wet one with mud on the bottom. When I got back I put the new grinder and grinding disks in the thing. Plus this cute little extension chord that I found on the last Buffalo job I was on. The pay-dirt job with the promise of Red Lobster and the $500 free bucks. I mean, I have been looking for a reason to use it. And I found it. Sally pulled the bucket up. I put my harness on. Climbed the ship's ladder and we grinded like the wind until lunch.

Then we took lunch. Sally's sandwich was pretty good. Turkey and cheese and mayo and iceberg lettuce. With a bag of chips and a blueberry muffin. I took a long lunch. Three quarters of an hour. I had no desire to haul ass back. I thought like normal the boobs would just wait until I walked back before coming in but they were already up on the loading bridge grinding away. I was a little impressed. I mean, I think they just wanted to get the shit done, but whatever, I'll take it.

I mean, this is why having Allan around would have been 100% useless. He wouldn't have fit on the loading bridge. He couldn't do what I was doing. It would have been nice, but he wouldn't have been able to do it. Not that it was hard, there was just choices to be made. And he would have stacked the bricks like a jack-ass, I just know it. All of them would have. Even if I gave them specific and detailed instructions they would have gotten lazy and it would have created pure chaos up there. Half-bricks mixed with full-bricks. They would have gotten confused about what was done and what needed to be done. The would have dropped bricks to the deck. I mean, I just couldn't let it happen. I mean, Allan would have just literally stood there for eight hours today doing absolutely nothing. Which, I mean, that would have sucked for morale. I mean, I would have not only had to test every brick and stack every brick but also, I would have had to grind every brick. I mean, I think the boobs would have helped somewhat, but they would have complained every single second. Even if it was me doing all the work. And you know me, hearing people complain about work is worse than just doing all the work myself. And that says something, considering how easily I can gold-brick.

I mean, we grinded and grinded. Moved things around. Grinded some more. Sally complained. Smoked her Sonoma’s. Her wrists got tired. Billy tried to pretend that he wasn't getting tired, but he was getting tired. We only found one more over-sized brick. Putting the total at five. I mean, there is still about 30 minutes more grinding to do, but we can do that first thing. Clean the load bridge and be done with the lift by break tomorrow. I mean, the steel guys need to borrow it and I already said they could. I mean, the scissors lift. Not the loading bridge. I mean, not that that is set in stone. They can get their own lift if it is an emergency for them. But as far as my word is concerned, we should be done with the lift by break, at the latest. I mean, if I need to go back up there I can use the ship's ladder. Which, I mean, I probably will because I want to leave the loading bridge in good shape for the future. And I think that will mean moving some of the bricks again. But we will see.

At some point I realized that having the Sprinter van tomorrow early would be good. There is some trash that needs to be dealt with. And then we don't need to worry about the Big Boss coming at the end of the day. We can just get done what needs to get done and be done with it. I mean, I called the Big Boss after work. Asked him if it made sense for me to drive up to the shop to get it today. He seemed very happy to not have to drive down tomorrow. So I cleaned the site up and hopped in Junior Mint. I mean, the last thing I wanted to do today was drive two hours on the interstate to unload a van that I know the Big Boss didn't unload like he said he would, but the freedom it gives me tomorrow is going to be helpful.

I mean, disregard the wild ride that last paragraph was, I mean, my point is, I got in Junior Mint and started driving. Things were going fine. Then traffic. Then fine again. Then traffic. And then things were going fine again. Moving fine again. At one point this car in front of me suddenly swerved into the next lane. I didn't understand so I braced for something coming. Which happened pretty fast. A chunk of somebodies tire was in the middle of the road. I kept driving. Nothing I could do. I missed it, but because the car had swerved last minute the real danger wasn't apparent until it was too late. The rest of the tire was splayed over the entire lane. There was no way to avoid it. Like zero way. Like I grabbed the steering wheel and held my breath. Then I hit the thing. My already loud engine noise because I of that damn ice/water puddle I busted through the other day switched from being a constant hum to a full on throttle. I mean, whatever that thing is that holds the manifold to the exhaust pipe, it isn't doing it's job anymore. I mean, Junior Mint now sounds like the Scott's Jeep Cherokee. Loud as fuck. I mean, I couldn't believe it. I still can't believe it. And the sad part is that the car in front of me that did the last minute swerve, they didn't have a car in front of them. Nor was there a car coming up on the left hand side. They just weren't paying attention. I mean, I guess I should have been following at a greater distance? But, I mean, had they not swerved and under normal circumstances I was about to pass them. I mean, I am not blaming them for this happening, I am just saying that it could have easily been avoided. And who knows? Maybe the car behind me got tricked because I didn't swerve? And they are in the same boat as me now? I mean, it's weird that shit like that can happen all the sudden when you are going 75 mph down the interstate, right? Just joking. Always pay attention when you are driving. G was telling me about this math problem from school the other day. It was a word problem about somebody driving down the road doing X speed and then looking down at there phone for Y amount of time and how much the car traveled in that time. I mean, it seemed kind of clever, both a math problem and a warning to the kids to not look at their phones while driving. But, I mean, it left an impression on them. So, I mean, that is effective math teaching I suppose.

When I got to the shop I parked Junior Mint. Got down in front of the car. Tried to play around with the exhaust thing. It was too hot to touch though. But it is fucked. I was able to move it way more than it should be able to move. I mean, I guess I call JD on Thursday. See if he can fit me into his schedule. I mean, at least I am working, right?

I mean, the van was not unloaded. The shop guy, whose name I never learned and now it is awkward because he knows my name, I mean, what an odd guy. But at least he got a haircut and I was able to say "You got a haircut. Looking sharp!" I mean, he asked me if I needed help unloading the van. I told him I didn't. I mean, I don't know if that is his job of not, but I didn't want his help. There were just a few pipes and some scaffold planks and the electric motor hoist box. I mean, he came outside and smoked a cigarette and watched me work. Which I didn't mind because for some reason he decided to tell me about how good of a rifle shot he was. How his brother goes shooting with him sometimes and always loses at their competitions that they have and he always says "I don't know how you do it. How can you keep hitting the target like that all the time and at such a great distance?" And then I egged him on. "Did you used to compete?" And he said "Oh, when I was younger. I was in the military for six years. I am not in fighting form anymore though. I mean, I eat the same as I did when I was there, but I don't do the same work-out." Then he smiled. "But when I was a kid, I got this trophy I won. First place." Then he went on and on about shooting using esoteric military terms. Then the conversation turned to Ukraine and Russia and I got out of there real quick.

I mean, I guess that is that. I had to get gas because when I dropped to van off last Thursday I didn't refill the tank. I mean, the jokes on me. I knew it would be. I put $70 dollars in the tank. I mean, I meant to fill it up but the diesel gas flows really fast and the nozzle gets tricked easy. I mean, I knew it wasn't full but I was annoyed at how long it was taking. Plus also, I just needed to get enough gas to get to Albany and back. Irregardless the next person to use it will need to get gas, so I am only kind of an asshole for not filling it all the way up. But what can you do? I mean, there are limits to how much shitty work a guy can do in a day. I mean, it's not like they were paying me to get the gas. I mean, they were paying me minimum wage. $12 bucks an hour. And I had just grinded one million stage weights for eight hours and then drove an hour to shop to save the Big Boss a trip tomorrow. I mean, you have to get gas regardless. That van is a gas-hog. I mean, I don't feel bad about it. I mean, I do, a little bit. But still. I don't think I will lose any sleep, as the bridesmaids say.

Anyhoodles, tomorrow will be what it is. We will work until we are done and then load-out and I will drive the van back and get into the loud as fuck Junior Mint and drive to Vermont in the snow. I mean, fucking hell, third time in a row that it will we snowing when I drive back. I mean, I half-expect to have a flat tire when I get to the shop tomorrow. I mean, I hit that flattened tire on the interstate pretty fucking hard. I mean, I hope my donut is okay. I haven't checked on it since last Fall. Not only that but I haven't changed a tire on Junior Mint ever. I mean, there was that time that Scott changed the breaks out, but he did all the work. I just gawked at him and felt bad that I wasn't doing anything. I mean, I know the equipment works. I mean, we'll see. Nothing I can do about it now.