SShep71
Hot Rolled
- Joined
- Sep 17, 2014
- Location
- San Diego, Ca
Since there are so many out there that are stuck in place, or just the opposite, working even harder. I figured I would try to bring up something that usually gets a few good laughs from past memories. Shop Hi-jinx. Considering the statute of limitations and the fact that most of the places that I would be referring to are gone. I thought I would at least share a few good stories of how I dealt with "that-guy", in the hopes others would chime in with their experiences. I cannot vouch for everyone on here obviously, however, in every shop I have ever been in there is always one guy that takes it too far. Usually if you can't name the one guy , you are the one guy. So I bring you all "The Mule" and "The instigator".
Much like the shop joker, there is another fabulous SOB that exists in every shop. The Mule. The mule is the guy that isn't very good at any thing, unless it is moving heavy things that no one else wants to pick up as that is all he is good for. Unfortunately for onlookers, The Mule, in his natural habitat always proudly displays his trademark the asscrack. As if a phenomena his jeans NEVER seem to stay in the right hemisphere. Well this is my story of the first shop I worked in right after high school circa 2003. I was working as basically a laborer in a structural steel fabrication shop in the day and going to college classes at night. I would do whatever task needed be done, punching, welding, grinding, cutting, sweeping (lots of sweeping), etc. The Mule as if some primitive jungle creature took notice to me, the new guy, and took great pleasure in causing me extra work. At times harmless, often on a different level. I was never one to escalate things, and knowing I was the FNG (figure it out), I knew I didn't have ground to stand on to speak up or say otherwise. The shop was only 5 old guys and myself. Since I respected my position, I never spoke up to The Mule and his antics. That caused him to escalate things to new levels in where he would turn off welding gas when I would be welding with dual-shield and I would have to grind out and reweld large structural members, or he would turn off the propane to the forklift when I was running it, stuff along those lines. When the shop foreman inquired about me constantly grinding out my welds I mentioned The Mule to him and he just replied with "I am not getting involved". So one day I took it upon myself and spoke up to The Mule. That apparently was the wrong thing to do, when I came in the next day I found that when I left for school the previous day he filled one of my boots with metal shavings from the band saw. Being 19, in college, and not having a dime to my name after bills, I had no other option but to clean out my boot the best I could and wear it. Well, at this point I have had enough, and the come-back began. From my perspective the only way to deal with someone like The Mule, who has no boundaries, is to run a strong ground game that only you know about. Guerrilla tactics of sorts. That being said, I got some stuff together and one day when I got to work early I found his tape measure, cut off 1 foot of it, and riveted the hook back on so it appeared as if nothing was wrong. Not wanting to just leave it to chance, I went to his work-area (Earth, damn slob) and did the same to his other two brand new, still attached to the plastic, tape measures. Well, for weeks he was cutting big steel beams, HSS tubes, and other material 1 foot too short causing loads of extra work for himself, and the foreman as they would have to come up with new cut-lists to accommodate the new lengths of the beams. I made sure it never cost the shop any money as the material on hand would just be shifted on the cut-list. I only let a few of the other guys at the shop in on the gig, and eventually the owner who found it hysterical and well deserved. I let the awesomeness go on for about a month before I put (3) 1 foot lengths of Stanley tape measure in the top of his box. He eventually got the point, and it ended quick when I told him I had multiple other ideas. Chalk that up for a win.
"The instigator" While in underwater welding school I was designated as the class supervisor due to my "leadership experience in the Army". Well one hot-rod at school took issue with that and he made it a point to go out of his way to make my time difficult, at time taking things to a dangerous level. Things like turning off my surface supplied breathing air to my diving hard-hat in my umbilical while underwater, making me have to go on my bail-out bottle for air to...well...not die. He made it a point to continue with other small, and large things that took the piss out of everything I had to do. The final straw came when one day when I had to dive. I was on the harbor bottom, and I requested that top-side send down more Broco torch rods (exothermic cutting rods) for some sheet piling I was cutting up. I was on stand-by until top side The Instigator told me to pull down supplies after an extended period of time, while pulling down my umbilical to get the extra rods, before the rods got to me also attached to the umbilical were my pants, shirt, socks, sweat shirt, Carhart jacket, and favorite Red Wing boots. I was even more upset when I got back top-side considering that he also locked my keys in my truck so I was stuck wearing a 14mm wet suit, and dive boots for the rest of the dive day. Not a comfortable feeling when the ambient air temp is in the mid 40's and we dive at night so there is that lack of sunlight to really set the chill in. Anyway, after the $75.00 fee to get AAA to unlock my truck I would up missing a few days school because I wound up getting so sick. Obviously I wasn't sure that the sickness was because of him, but close enough for me. Point him, my serve. Hot-rod, "The Instigator" made it a point to lock his stuff in his car and take his keys underwater with him as I made it very clear that I had plans. Unbeknownst to him, only 1 block away were a group of guys doing road repairs to the harbor road, on site they had a rather large telehandler (extendable boom forklift) and on the telehandler they had extended length forks. Well I made arrangements with one of the workers for $20.00 and I borrowed the telehandler for 30 min at night while The Instigator was at the harbor bottom. You see, next to the school was a flat barge that was occasionally tied up, I made arrangements with the barge owner for a small welding job he needed done as a favor. Knowing that the tide flows out of the harbor at this time at night so there was no risk of damage to the dock, allegedly I picked up The Instigators car with the lift and placed his car on the deck of the floating barge that was anchored there. On the roof of his car I put two battery powered flashing warning lights so that in the off chance another watercraft came around our back corner of the harbor there would be no trouble. I then untied the barge from the two deck cleats, and used the boom of the telehandler to push the barge as far away from the dock as possible. I retied the barge to the cleats, returned the telehandler, and waited. Soon enough hot-rod came up from his dive and when he went to go to his car it wasn't where he had originally placed it. I just walked over to him and gave him an empty bottle of cold medicine patted him on the shoulder and walked away without saying a word. I left it to the other guys in our dive class (several of which helped with this whole idea) to show him the new sea-worthy version of his car. No one helped him figure it out as he had that much a reputation at that point. The next day when we got to school the barge was pulled tight against the dock, but the car had remained on top as there is still a 3' gap between the dock and the barge with the bags/tires in between the two. The Instigator was there cussing up a storm about the cab fare home the previous morning, and demanding that everyone help him get his car back. To this day I have no idea how he got his car off the barge, but he never again messed around with anyone including myself. Point made, crisis adverted, everyone was safe, the school leadership gave it a good laugh and told him about consequences and actions. End.
So anyway, those are just two of the stories that I can tell because they won't get me kicked off the planet, it is amazing what you can come up with to do to each other in the military out of pure boredom. If you have any good stories share them, unless someone got physically hurt, because that is unacceptable any day.
Much like the shop joker, there is another fabulous SOB that exists in every shop. The Mule. The mule is the guy that isn't very good at any thing, unless it is moving heavy things that no one else wants to pick up as that is all he is good for. Unfortunately for onlookers, The Mule, in his natural habitat always proudly displays his trademark the asscrack. As if a phenomena his jeans NEVER seem to stay in the right hemisphere. Well this is my story of the first shop I worked in right after high school circa 2003. I was working as basically a laborer in a structural steel fabrication shop in the day and going to college classes at night. I would do whatever task needed be done, punching, welding, grinding, cutting, sweeping (lots of sweeping), etc. The Mule as if some primitive jungle creature took notice to me, the new guy, and took great pleasure in causing me extra work. At times harmless, often on a different level. I was never one to escalate things, and knowing I was the FNG (figure it out), I knew I didn't have ground to stand on to speak up or say otherwise. The shop was only 5 old guys and myself. Since I respected my position, I never spoke up to The Mule and his antics. That caused him to escalate things to new levels in where he would turn off welding gas when I would be welding with dual-shield and I would have to grind out and reweld large structural members, or he would turn off the propane to the forklift when I was running it, stuff along those lines. When the shop foreman inquired about me constantly grinding out my welds I mentioned The Mule to him and he just replied with "I am not getting involved". So one day I took it upon myself and spoke up to The Mule. That apparently was the wrong thing to do, when I came in the next day I found that when I left for school the previous day he filled one of my boots with metal shavings from the band saw. Being 19, in college, and not having a dime to my name after bills, I had no other option but to clean out my boot the best I could and wear it. Well, at this point I have had enough, and the come-back began. From my perspective the only way to deal with someone like The Mule, who has no boundaries, is to run a strong ground game that only you know about. Guerrilla tactics of sorts. That being said, I got some stuff together and one day when I got to work early I found his tape measure, cut off 1 foot of it, and riveted the hook back on so it appeared as if nothing was wrong. Not wanting to just leave it to chance, I went to his work-area (Earth, damn slob) and did the same to his other two brand new, still attached to the plastic, tape measures. Well, for weeks he was cutting big steel beams, HSS tubes, and other material 1 foot too short causing loads of extra work for himself, and the foreman as they would have to come up with new cut-lists to accommodate the new lengths of the beams. I made sure it never cost the shop any money as the material on hand would just be shifted on the cut-list. I only let a few of the other guys at the shop in on the gig, and eventually the owner who found it hysterical and well deserved. I let the awesomeness go on for about a month before I put (3) 1 foot lengths of Stanley tape measure in the top of his box. He eventually got the point, and it ended quick when I told him I had multiple other ideas. Chalk that up for a win.
"The instigator" While in underwater welding school I was designated as the class supervisor due to my "leadership experience in the Army". Well one hot-rod at school took issue with that and he made it a point to go out of his way to make my time difficult, at time taking things to a dangerous level. Things like turning off my surface supplied breathing air to my diving hard-hat in my umbilical while underwater, making me have to go on my bail-out bottle for air to...well...not die. He made it a point to continue with other small, and large things that took the piss out of everything I had to do. The final straw came when one day when I had to dive. I was on the harbor bottom, and I requested that top-side send down more Broco torch rods (exothermic cutting rods) for some sheet piling I was cutting up. I was on stand-by until top side The Instigator told me to pull down supplies after an extended period of time, while pulling down my umbilical to get the extra rods, before the rods got to me also attached to the umbilical were my pants, shirt, socks, sweat shirt, Carhart jacket, and favorite Red Wing boots. I was even more upset when I got back top-side considering that he also locked my keys in my truck so I was stuck wearing a 14mm wet suit, and dive boots for the rest of the dive day. Not a comfortable feeling when the ambient air temp is in the mid 40's and we dive at night so there is that lack of sunlight to really set the chill in. Anyway, after the $75.00 fee to get AAA to unlock my truck I would up missing a few days school because I wound up getting so sick. Obviously I wasn't sure that the sickness was because of him, but close enough for me. Point him, my serve. Hot-rod, "The Instigator" made it a point to lock his stuff in his car and take his keys underwater with him as I made it very clear that I had plans. Unbeknownst to him, only 1 block away were a group of guys doing road repairs to the harbor road, on site they had a rather large telehandler (extendable boom forklift) and on the telehandler they had extended length forks. Well I made arrangements with one of the workers for $20.00 and I borrowed the telehandler for 30 min at night while The Instigator was at the harbor bottom. You see, next to the school was a flat barge that was occasionally tied up, I made arrangements with the barge owner for a small welding job he needed done as a favor. Knowing that the tide flows out of the harbor at this time at night so there was no risk of damage to the dock, allegedly I picked up The Instigators car with the lift and placed his car on the deck of the floating barge that was anchored there. On the roof of his car I put two battery powered flashing warning lights so that in the off chance another watercraft came around our back corner of the harbor there would be no trouble. I then untied the barge from the two deck cleats, and used the boom of the telehandler to push the barge as far away from the dock as possible. I retied the barge to the cleats, returned the telehandler, and waited. Soon enough hot-rod came up from his dive and when he went to go to his car it wasn't where he had originally placed it. I just walked over to him and gave him an empty bottle of cold medicine patted him on the shoulder and walked away without saying a word. I left it to the other guys in our dive class (several of which helped with this whole idea) to show him the new sea-worthy version of his car. No one helped him figure it out as he had that much a reputation at that point. The next day when we got to school the barge was pulled tight against the dock, but the car had remained on top as there is still a 3' gap between the dock and the barge with the bags/tires in between the two. The Instigator was there cussing up a storm about the cab fare home the previous morning, and demanding that everyone help him get his car back. To this day I have no idea how he got his car off the barge, but he never again messed around with anyone including myself. Point made, crisis adverted, everyone was safe, the school leadership gave it a good laugh and told him about consequences and actions. End.
So anyway, those are just two of the stories that I can tell because they won't get me kicked off the planet, it is amazing what you can come up with to do to each other in the military out of pure boredom. If you have any good stories share them, unless someone got physically hurt, because that is unacceptable any day.
That damn near resulted in a fist fight, foreman got there just in time to stop it.
