Leaving the plant
When it's hot outside, it's even hotter inside.
This is a little hard to accept in practice, though the theory is easy enough.
The sun beats down on the big (as in most of a city block big), roof of the plant all day. The building warms up. The paint shop warms up even more because the cars go through giant freaking ovens at least twice on their zig zag path along the line. The cars are cooked once for I have no idea, again to harden the sealer and probably again after they're painted. And because the cars must be otherwise dry, when it's humid they have to turn the ovens up even hotter.
So we've got heat coming from three sources: the roof, the ovens and the big steel hulks that just spent some time in the ovens.
The company isn't entirely unsympathetic. On hot days they provide free bottled water in big tubs of ice (which rapidly melts). When it's 32 degrees Celsius at the airport, they give us a five minute break every hour (known as a 'heat relief'). When it's 40, they give us ten. Except for the first time this summer when dad had to go fight for it. He's a big muckity muck in the union and had to get the health and safety guy and one or two others to explain why it was necessary to the company. They've been good ever since.
Before today, our hottest shift had only two heat reliefs after lunch. An hour into today's shift, we got a ten minute heat relief. For the rest of the shift, if we weren't on one of our two regular 12 minute breaks or 19 minute lunch period, we got a five minute heat relief every hour. This meant that by the time I'd put in my eight hours tonight, I was more than ready to get the hell out of the plant.
That's easier said than done.
It's roughly a big rectangle. Along one of the long sides is a path divided into two lanes. One's for pedestrians, the other's for fork lifts (automated or with drivers), golf carts, bicycles and other vehicles. In the rest of the space is the line. It starts in one corner, goes across the short way almost to the path, does a 180 and heads back the other direction. It does that for the entire length of the plant.
When I leave the paint shop and get onto the path, it stretches so far I can't see either end. It's a five minute walk to get to the exit to the lot I park in. Outside the doors is a little paved area between you and the turnstiles. If you get there before the official shift end point, there are six massive lines of people waiting to swipe their ID cards to get out.
When the shift officially ends, the people at the head of each line simultaneously swipe their cards and begin the exodus. The atmosphere is a lot like that of people leaving an amusement park, except these people are pumped to be leaving a place they don't like instead of being pumped from a day of fun.
The amusement park experience continues right out to the parking lot where half of the thousand people on that shift want to leave the lot at the same time. The other half are in the lot on the other side of the building. The parking lot entrance/exit is an intersection with lights and four lanes.
I've been driving the last few days because dad's been on the opposite shift dealing with grievances. Instead of fighting the current, I sit in the car in the lot and wait until there's barely a trickle of cars leaving before I even leave my parking spot.
Today was calm; I didn't hear a single horn.
An hour later, I pulled into the driveway and my day was done. But not my week. I get to do it again tomorrow.
At least the money's good.
This is a little hard to accept in practice, though the theory is easy enough.
The sun beats down on the big (as in most of a city block big), roof of the plant all day. The building warms up. The paint shop warms up even more because the cars go through giant freaking ovens at least twice on their zig zag path along the line. The cars are cooked once for I have no idea, again to harden the sealer and probably again after they're painted. And because the cars must be otherwise dry, when it's humid they have to turn the ovens up even hotter.
So we've got heat coming from three sources: the roof, the ovens and the big steel hulks that just spent some time in the ovens.
The company isn't entirely unsympathetic. On hot days they provide free bottled water in big tubs of ice (which rapidly melts). When it's 32 degrees Celsius at the airport, they give us a five minute break every hour (known as a 'heat relief'). When it's 40, they give us ten. Except for the first time this summer when dad had to go fight for it. He's a big muckity muck in the union and had to get the health and safety guy and one or two others to explain why it was necessary to the company. They've been good ever since.
Before today, our hottest shift had only two heat reliefs after lunch. An hour into today's shift, we got a ten minute heat relief. For the rest of the shift, if we weren't on one of our two regular 12 minute breaks or 19 minute lunch period, we got a five minute heat relief every hour. This meant that by the time I'd put in my eight hours tonight, I was more than ready to get the hell out of the plant.
That's easier said than done.
It's roughly a big rectangle. Along one of the long sides is a path divided into two lanes. One's for pedestrians, the other's for fork lifts (automated or with drivers), golf carts, bicycles and other vehicles. In the rest of the space is the line. It starts in one corner, goes across the short way almost to the path, does a 180 and heads back the other direction. It does that for the entire length of the plant.
When I leave the paint shop and get onto the path, it stretches so far I can't see either end. It's a five minute walk to get to the exit to the lot I park in. Outside the doors is a little paved area between you and the turnstiles. If you get there before the official shift end point, there are six massive lines of people waiting to swipe their ID cards to get out.
When the shift officially ends, the people at the head of each line simultaneously swipe their cards and begin the exodus. The atmosphere is a lot like that of people leaving an amusement park, except these people are pumped to be leaving a place they don't like instead of being pumped from a day of fun.
The amusement park experience continues right out to the parking lot where half of the thousand people on that shift want to leave the lot at the same time. The other half are in the lot on the other side of the building. The parking lot entrance/exit is an intersection with lights and four lanes.
I've been driving the last few days because dad's been on the opposite shift dealing with grievances. Instead of fighting the current, I sit in the car in the lot and wait until there's barely a trickle of cars leaving before I even leave my parking spot.
Today was calm; I didn't hear a single horn.
An hour later, I pulled into the driveway and my day was done. But not my week. I get to do it again tomorrow.
At least the money's good.
