Yep. That’s how I ended my wokday today. Engraving a farewell message to a doctor on a speculum. A used speculum. Sterilized and sanitized, the customer assured me. I got that pinchy feeling the whole time, and now that I’ve had a opportunity to (ahem) examine one close up, I am less enamored of the device than I was before. It looks positively medieval.
So what surreal experience did you have today?
Well, today I and a buddy unwrapped hundreds of little paper envelopes to extract the obsolete submachine gun bolts contained within. Sometime around eleven, we looked over at the large triwall box we’d been throwing the doomed-to-be-smelted bolts (each a soda-can-sized cylinder of hgh-quality steel) and realized it was going to be too heavy for the pallet jack to lift, so we got Bernie to use the forklift to, out of curiosity, move it to the scale and only then realized we’d moved 2600 lbs of metal that morning and it was something of a mystery why the triwall hadn’t collapsed like a soufflé at a grenade range.