- Joined
- Apr 23, 2015
- Messages
- 929
Felt like I was a teacher again in the hood. Was cleaning welds on 54" electrical panels in prep for shipping but was constantly distracted by welding flashes in my peripheral vision. The welder never pulls over his screen although he has been told by the super many times. I don't like the constant distraction and "spots" from weld flashes. Rather than say anything, I simply went near the weld area and moved a pallet of metal boxes next to an I-beam, blocking the direct line of the flashes, and cordially leaving the welder 2 feet of access through his station. Returned to my work station. He quickly moved the pallet back then came over saying, "Wha-choo f-ing dis and f-ing dat around my blah, blah, blah!" I told him it was to "block the weld flashes," that "they were leaving spots in my eyes,"and "were distracting me," and that "he had a red see-through screen he was supposed to use. OSHA regulations, common courtesy and all that." Well, he unleashed on me with his ex-prison vocabulary and got in my face. I felt like smashing his face in, puny little loud-mouthed shit from Equador. Hey LaRasa, go fuck yourselves!, but I cooled the jets, figuring I had planned to attend my daughter's swim meet tonight and take them camping this weekend. He kept at it, and moved closer blocking my right hand. I laughed inside as I'm a south-paw, but after he gained the attention of most of the shop and me realizing he would be destroyed in less than 15 seconds, I decided to stick to my plans for the weekend instead of spending it in prison (being from Equador, I figured he would sue me and the company and probably win, poor baby) then I laughed, took off my gloves, turned and said, "I'll be outside!" Then walked out, softer bed for him in the grass. He didn't follow. As I walked around the building reassuring myself my daughters were the priority, I couldn't help seeing the event as a parallel of the very reason I retired from being an inner-city Special Education Teacher. Evidently I can't escape ignorance, like gravy to a white shirt, it seeks out and finds a target. The strange thing is the arthritis in my knuckles has subsided and I can clench my fists again. "Hey Yogi Berra, is this deja-vie all over again?"