Confederate Soldier
Diamond Member
So far, I have spent three days working at my new job (packer / stacker / production worker) and now I'm on my two day break.
I now know why adults drink a beer at night.
For all three days, I showed up half an hour early, first to clock in. I was standing in line waiting to clock in, when an older fellow walked through the door, and did a double take, before he said "and just who in the hell are you!?". I told him that I was new here. It turns out, I am the one who broke his 15 year streak of being the first in line. So that was cool for me.
So my job mostly consists of bagging plastic containers that come down the conveyor belt, and putting them in boxes, sending them through a taping machine, and repeating, after setting up a new box each time. It sounds simple, but remember, the conveyer belt DOESN'T STOP. I thought it would be easy. Oh hells bells no. I have never been so tired in my life. Like honestly, holy shit, I never knew it would be like this. I would have quit the first day, if it wasn't for incredible leadership and fantastic co-workers.
My "boss" for my three training work days, was a woman named Jessica. Small, early 40s, and the most patient woman I have ever met. She saw me panicking at the speed of the belt, and she came over and showed me a quick "down, flip, pack" technique. It took me about half an hour to get it down pat, and she came over a couple of times when I fell behind and gave me another example or two before I got the hang of it. Soon I was packing boxes quickly, and efficiently.
The first day went well, but I was dog tired. I went to bed at 8:00pm, and slept until 5:00 am when I got up for my second day. The second day, I was first in line again, beating the older fellow again, who laughed when He saw me this time. I put on my hardhat, put my hearing protection in, put on my safety glasses, and was soon packin' and stackin' on the floor again. The second day was easier because I knew what I was doing, and even with the newer machines, Jess would show me quickly how to do it and I'd take off packing like a mad-man. This time, I had to assemble pallets, stamp the date on each box, then label the top right hand corner of the box on top of the stack, then use a pallet jack to take the pallet over to where the forklifts could get it, all while the conveyor belt was still sending containers and lids my way.
So.
Many.
Lids.
On my break during the first day, I saw that the breakroom was stocked with a magnificent array of fresh food. So on my second day, I didn't bother to take a lunch. On my break, I picked out a beautiful specimen of a sandwich, and an energy drink. When I went to pay, I looked in horror at the payment option.
"Download the App!"
Shit.
I stared at the screen, and I looked around the breakroom, and I didn't have the nerve to ask any of the guys in there how to pay for my damn sandwich. I didn't want to be "that new guy". So I put everything back, walked out, and ran up and down the halls looking for Jessica. After a thorough search, I finally found her, and went through the embarrassment of asking if there was any way to pay for stuff in there, otherwise I'd starve. Yes, there was in fact a button. It wasn't labeled, so it technically wasn't my fault. I inhaled a sub two minutes before I went back on the floor. Some break.
At the end of the day, I hurt really bad. My feet, my back, my arms, my legs, everything. I stacked 20 pallets, each pallet with 16 boxes, all by myself. I was exhausted. I went home and went to bed, happy that I stuck it out, and happy that I had someone who understood that being new would be difficult.
Today I got up at 5:00am, took a Tylenol, put orthopedic inserts into my boots, grabbed a 5 hour energy drink at the store, and was there before anyone else was again. For the first 5 hours, I was a man on fire. I stacked more pallets than I had done the day before, even working new machines that Jess taught me how to operate. Life was good.
Until the deli section shift.
Jess told me "your life is going to be hell for about half an hour".
Oh No.
So the way it works, is that several machines make different sized cups for the stuff you see at a deli section of a grocery store (potato salad, etc.). The machines made three sizes, small, medium, and large. Each container went into a different color bag. Small went in yellow bags, medium went in orange, and large went in green. The machines also made lids. These went in white bags.
Each type of container went into its own box. There were three taping machines that you would run a box through after you packed it, (you had to put the box in a machine that would close the bottom for you) and someone would take the box and stack it on a pallet. There was me and another fellow working the conveyer, and this time I knew I was in deep shit.
The machines were nightmarishly fast. I was sweating. I had sweat running into my eyes. I was panicking. The containers kept coming, and the damned things wouldn't get into the boxes. I made several mistakes, but Jess came over and corrected them. I told her, half jokingly, but half serious, "I shoulda worked at McDonalds!" The guy I was working with spoke Spanish with broken English. He saw me panicking and struggling, and he took time to come and put his hand on my shoulder and say "No panic. Breathe in, out. Slow is Smooth, Smooth is Fast". He showed me his technique of grabbing the bags, calmly, but quickly walking over to his box, and placing them in (it's really hard to explain how he put them in). I made several mistakes, the same mistakes, but he didn't get annoyed. He came over, showed me how to do it again, saying "No panic" and giving me the thumbs up. After several attempts, I finally repeated his technique, to which he walked over and gave me a high five. it felt good. The next two hours went very smoothly, even to the point where I was outpacing him. He was grinning, and I was too. I was working so hard, I forgot how tired I was and how bad my feet felt. My shift ended and so did my days working day shift.
Jess clocked out with me and then recommended several tips for what kind of shoes to buy, what inserts to get, good foods to eat before work, exercises to do in the evening before work, and the morning after work. I thanked her for everything, and got in my car, but didn't leave. I made sure she drove off, and then walked back to the offices, and asked to speak with HR.
The HR lady had a look of concern on her face. I think she thought I was quitting. She asked me how I liked the job, and I told her the truth. I love it. I told her that I came back in to let her know about how much I appreciated the help Jess and Armad (the guy in the deli section) were. I told her about my sheer panic, and how he calmed me down and helped me out, all while keeping up with his own work. I told her about how Jessica took her time with me, and was very patient and helpful. I then told her that I would do my absolute best, and I would show up early, and leave late. I think she was in a state of shock. She was expecting me to quit. She thanked me very much for the info, and mentioned that it was about time Armad got a promotion. That made me pretty happy. The guy deserves it. I went down the stairs, saw a board where you could sign up for additional training. I signed up for medical training and robotics. They'll teach me how to operate the robots, and gradually, over time, teach me how to fix them. After a year, I can graduate to a low level technician, which is a hell of a pay increase. I'll also have a red cross on my helmet, meaning I'm certified in CPR, first aid and AED. That's pretty cool, because my dad was an firefighter/EMT for over 30 years.
Yes, I feel tired, but I'll get used to it. Unfortunately, the shift I'll be working won't be with the folks who helped me. I'll be clocking out by the time Jess, Armad, and the others clock in. I'll still be able to wave I guess. When I'm eligible, I'll probably ask for a transfer.
I like my new job. I will do it the best I can. I get to put on my hard hat and go to work like a real man.
Holy crap, I'm finally an adult. 0_0
I now know why adults drink a beer at night.
For all three days, I showed up half an hour early, first to clock in. I was standing in line waiting to clock in, when an older fellow walked through the door, and did a double take, before he said "and just who in the hell are you!?". I told him that I was new here. It turns out, I am the one who broke his 15 year streak of being the first in line. So that was cool for me.
So my job mostly consists of bagging plastic containers that come down the conveyor belt, and putting them in boxes, sending them through a taping machine, and repeating, after setting up a new box each time. It sounds simple, but remember, the conveyer belt DOESN'T STOP. I thought it would be easy. Oh hells bells no. I have never been so tired in my life. Like honestly, holy shit, I never knew it would be like this. I would have quit the first day, if it wasn't for incredible leadership and fantastic co-workers.
My "boss" for my three training work days, was a woman named Jessica. Small, early 40s, and the most patient woman I have ever met. She saw me panicking at the speed of the belt, and she came over and showed me a quick "down, flip, pack" technique. It took me about half an hour to get it down pat, and she came over a couple of times when I fell behind and gave me another example or two before I got the hang of it. Soon I was packing boxes quickly, and efficiently.
The first day went well, but I was dog tired. I went to bed at 8:00pm, and slept until 5:00 am when I got up for my second day. The second day, I was first in line again, beating the older fellow again, who laughed when He saw me this time. I put on my hardhat, put my hearing protection in, put on my safety glasses, and was soon packin' and stackin' on the floor again. The second day was easier because I knew what I was doing, and even with the newer machines, Jess would show me quickly how to do it and I'd take off packing like a mad-man. This time, I had to assemble pallets, stamp the date on each box, then label the top right hand corner of the box on top of the stack, then use a pallet jack to take the pallet over to where the forklifts could get it, all while the conveyor belt was still sending containers and lids my way.
So.
Many.
Lids.
On my break during the first day, I saw that the breakroom was stocked with a magnificent array of fresh food. So on my second day, I didn't bother to take a lunch. On my break, I picked out a beautiful specimen of a sandwich, and an energy drink. When I went to pay, I looked in horror at the payment option.
"Download the App!"
Shit.
I stared at the screen, and I looked around the breakroom, and I didn't have the nerve to ask any of the guys in there how to pay for my damn sandwich. I didn't want to be "that new guy". So I put everything back, walked out, and ran up and down the halls looking for Jessica. After a thorough search, I finally found her, and went through the embarrassment of asking if there was any way to pay for stuff in there, otherwise I'd starve. Yes, there was in fact a button. It wasn't labeled, so it technically wasn't my fault. I inhaled a sub two minutes before I went back on the floor. Some break.
At the end of the day, I hurt really bad. My feet, my back, my arms, my legs, everything. I stacked 20 pallets, each pallet with 16 boxes, all by myself. I was exhausted. I went home and went to bed, happy that I stuck it out, and happy that I had someone who understood that being new would be difficult.
Today I got up at 5:00am, took a Tylenol, put orthopedic inserts into my boots, grabbed a 5 hour energy drink at the store, and was there before anyone else was again. For the first 5 hours, I was a man on fire. I stacked more pallets than I had done the day before, even working new machines that Jess taught me how to operate. Life was good.
Until the deli section shift.
Jess told me "your life is going to be hell for about half an hour".
Oh No.
So the way it works, is that several machines make different sized cups for the stuff you see at a deli section of a grocery store (potato salad, etc.). The machines made three sizes, small, medium, and large. Each container went into a different color bag. Small went in yellow bags, medium went in orange, and large went in green. The machines also made lids. These went in white bags.
Each type of container went into its own box. There were three taping machines that you would run a box through after you packed it, (you had to put the box in a machine that would close the bottom for you) and someone would take the box and stack it on a pallet. There was me and another fellow working the conveyer, and this time I knew I was in deep shit.
The machines were nightmarishly fast. I was sweating. I had sweat running into my eyes. I was panicking. The containers kept coming, and the damned things wouldn't get into the boxes. I made several mistakes, but Jess came over and corrected them. I told her, half jokingly, but half serious, "I shoulda worked at McDonalds!" The guy I was working with spoke Spanish with broken English. He saw me panicking and struggling, and he took time to come and put his hand on my shoulder and say "No panic. Breathe in, out. Slow is Smooth, Smooth is Fast". He showed me his technique of grabbing the bags, calmly, but quickly walking over to his box, and placing them in (it's really hard to explain how he put them in). I made several mistakes, the same mistakes, but he didn't get annoyed. He came over, showed me how to do it again, saying "No panic" and giving me the thumbs up. After several attempts, I finally repeated his technique, to which he walked over and gave me a high five. it felt good. The next two hours went very smoothly, even to the point where I was outpacing him. He was grinning, and I was too. I was working so hard, I forgot how tired I was and how bad my feet felt. My shift ended and so did my days working day shift.
Jess clocked out with me and then recommended several tips for what kind of shoes to buy, what inserts to get, good foods to eat before work, exercises to do in the evening before work, and the morning after work. I thanked her for everything, and got in my car, but didn't leave. I made sure she drove off, and then walked back to the offices, and asked to speak with HR.
The HR lady had a look of concern on her face. I think she thought I was quitting. She asked me how I liked the job, and I told her the truth. I love it. I told her that I came back in to let her know about how much I appreciated the help Jess and Armad (the guy in the deli section) were. I told her about my sheer panic, and how he calmed me down and helped me out, all while keeping up with his own work. I told her about how Jessica took her time with me, and was very patient and helpful. I then told her that I would do my absolute best, and I would show up early, and leave late. I think she was in a state of shock. She was expecting me to quit. She thanked me very much for the info, and mentioned that it was about time Armad got a promotion. That made me pretty happy. The guy deserves it. I went down the stairs, saw a board where you could sign up for additional training. I signed up for medical training and robotics. They'll teach me how to operate the robots, and gradually, over time, teach me how to fix them. After a year, I can graduate to a low level technician, which is a hell of a pay increase. I'll also have a red cross on my helmet, meaning I'm certified in CPR, first aid and AED. That's pretty cool, because my dad was an firefighter/EMT for over 30 years.
Yes, I feel tired, but I'll get used to it. Unfortunately, the shift I'll be working won't be with the folks who helped me. I'll be clocking out by the time Jess, Armad, and the others clock in. I'll still be able to wave I guess. When I'm eligible, I'll probably ask for a transfer.
I like my new job. I will do it the best I can. I get to put on my hard hat and go to work like a real man.
Holy crap, I'm finally an adult. 0_0
