I Damned Near Committed Mass Murder Today

No shit. If thing’s had gone slightly different today, all of you would have been sitting here talking about how a Doper snapped and killed almost everyone he worked with. And, no, Pete Puma had nothing to do with it. Let me describe some of the worthless pieces of shit I work with.

First, there’s the mold maker. I have him to “thank” for this job. He constantly drops hints that he’s a multimillionaire. He also claims to hate the place as much as I do. Now, call me crazy, but if I had a month’s salary in the bank, I’d quit the job. Yet, the mold maker continues to stay. He’s even said to Pete, “I was here before you started, and I’ll be here after you’re gone.” WTF? I also get to listen to the mold maker’s near constant stories of him screwing his wife. (Oh yeah, he’s decided not to have more kids, because he doesn’t want his wife to lose her figure.) He’s also told management that he doesn’t know how to weld aluminum, while bragging to me that he does. He’s also told management that he can’t make certain molds because he doesn’t understand the software well enough. Okay, I can barely get the software to do anything, but I’ve piddled with it enough to know that if you can do what he does with it, you can do what he says he can’t do with it. I should also mention that the mold maker is a musician and claims to have played with all kinds of big name stars. He also claims to have made parts for Jesse James.

Next, there’s Braaaad. Braaaad is the “expert” hired to save the company. Braaaad talks about everything like he’s a high school basketball coach, there’s two minutes left in the game, his team’s down by a hundred points, and he think’s that there’s some way his team can pull it out and win the game. Braaaad has come up with a whole bunch of “brilliant” ideas. One of his ideas was to buy a huge “coffin” freezer. The idea being we’d take the wax filled trees and freeze them. That way, we’d be able to burn the wax without distorting the ceramic trees because of the different rates of expansion between wax and ceramic. Of course, if the ceramic isn’t fully cured, then freezing the trees will prevent them from curing properly and they’ll disintergrate when they’re put in the preheat oven. Any guesses as to how I know this? Another one of Braaaad’s “brilliant” ideas was to put the furnace operator on the pouring crew. Instead of standing up at the furnace, while they’re pouring steel and keeping close eye on the furnace (old and poorly maintained), he’s now down on the pouring floor with everyone else. The furnace operator admits that it’s only a matter of time before the furnace blows up and someone gets hurt.

Then there’s One Eyed Jack. He’s one of our parts inspectors. Any guesses as to how he got his name? He calls his wife “Mommy.” Every conversation he has with you, seems to have started ten minutes before you got there. Add to that, One Eye’s inability to enunciate correctly, and his complete lack of understanding of what he’s supposed to be examining the parts for, and it’s a wonder any of Pete’s numerous mistakes ever get caught at all.

The Owner’s a real piece of work. He screwed his own father over to get control of the company a few years ago and has been running it into the ground ever since. He’s not really paid a helluvalot of attention to the daily operations of the business (i.e. he hasn’t given a shit if Pete’s done anything or not), until recently. The Honda contract was supposed to save the company. Of course, he didn’t think about the fact that we’d totally have to change how we do business. And now that the shit has not only hit the fan, but sprayed around the room before getting sucked back into the fan so it can be sprayed about again, he’s got no idea of what to do to save our bacon. Which is why he hired Braaaad.

Now, that’s just a partial cast of characters, but this damn thing’s getting long, it’s getting late, and I’m starting to lose my buzz, so I’ll just skip ahead to what the hell I’ve been doing for the past month. Myself, the mold maker, and Pete have been machining Honda parts. 400 parts a day, on a “good” day. Most of the time, we’re not able to crank that many out, however. Not that it matters, of course, since we need to be doing twice that many a day to keep up with what Honda wants. We wouldn’t be in this mess, if the Owner and Braaaad had bothered to do some planning before we ran the Honda job. You know, figured out how long it was going to take us to do the job, what kind of problems we were likely to run in to, that kind of thing. But they didn’t. Nope, they just figured that we could run the Honda parts like we run everything else: Kind of to specifications and we’ll ship it to you, whenever we get around to it.

Needless to say, they were extremely shocked when they got a phone call from Honda because we had accidentally shipped Honda one bad part. The general reaction from management was, “It’s only one bad part, what the hell are they complaining about?” I, of course, was amused, since I knew that something like this was going to happen. Maybe it’s because my mother has worked for Honda for twenty odd years now. Maybe it’s all those quality management books I read when I worked at Waldenbooks, maybe it’s the fact that I spent a large portion of my childhood in my dad’s office, helping him run the family business, or maybe it’s the fact that I’ve got two functioning brain cells which occassionally rub up against one another from time to time, that told me Honda wasn’t going to put up with us passing shit off on them. I don’t know, you tell me.

Mind you, what makes all of this so pathetic is that almost two years ago, on my own iniative, I typed up a nice report, which in very simple terms showed the owner of the company how, for about $10 K, he could double the productivity of the facility, increase quality, and slash costs. Any guesses as to what happened next? I got a pat on the head, an award, a check for $100, and that’s it. They haven’t done a single thing I suggested. If I’ve tried to covertly implement any of the things on my own, as soon as they found out, I got my ass handed to me. Never mind that I could prove that things were getting done faster and better, because I wasn’t doing things the way they did them when the company started 30 years ago, I was flat, fucking wrong.

Foolishly, I thought that when Honda called and raised hell, that’d solve the problems. Nope. SSDD. Of course, now we’ve got the problem that all our other customers are demanding to know where the hell their parts are. Mind you, we were late on those parts before we ever started running the Honda job. Now, we’re really late on them, and we’re having to stop running the Honda job so that we can squeak out just enough parts to keep our other customers from canceling their orders with us. For now.

Most of our non-Honda work in the shop, is simply machining castings that they can’t figure out how to cast in the features we’re machining (or how to prevent the problems we’re having to machine out). Of course, if they’d listened to me, then we wouldn’t be doing this in the shop, because they’d have been able to figure out how to correct the problems, and we could spend our time building molds, and other things we now have to outsource for big bucks.

So, for nine to twelve hours a day, six days a week, for the past month, I’ve had to bust my ass doing a job, in what I know to be the wrong way, over and over again. All of this, against my will, and for less money than I deserve. Now, you’re going to ask me why the hell don’t I just pack my shit up, and get some shitty temp job which at least pays better. Believe me, I’d like nothing better, but here’s my fucking dilemma: It’s damn near impossible to find a machining job in this town right now with the level of experience I have. If I bail, then it’ll be that much harder for me to find a machining job later on. Plus, without access to machine tools, my skills will start to erode. Given that the Honda job is mostly eyeballing the parts when they come off the CNC, I’ve found that when I’ve ran non-Honda jobs where I’ve had to pay close attention to what I was doing, it’s taken me longer to the job, because I’ve forgotten basics about machining. Of course, I could, go back to school, so I wouldn’t lose my skills. The problem with that, though, is I’ve got to find a temp job (or a “permanent” job) which pays close to $15/hr starting out, so that I can afford the cost of school, plus take care of other things that I need to. In this area, those jobs are non-existent. Did I mention that I want to get the hell out of this state? Yeah, but, of course, I can’t just pack up my cat, and a few things to head off to sunnier shores. See, I own this mobile home I live in, and it needs work. Not a lot of work, but it’s not going to be cheap. New carpet, new flooring in the kitchen, new counter tops in the kitchen, paint on all the walls and a couple of holes in the walls patched. That’s if I want to get close to what I owe on this this thing, out of it.

In order to try and speed things along, I am slowly selling off everything I own as I have time. Of course, since most of the stuff I own are books, I’m not getting a helluvalot of cash out of this. Still, it’s something, I suppose.

Ya still with me? I haven’t even told you what nearly caused me to go off and start killing people today. I’ll do that now. I was doing another bullshit job, while we were waiting for Honda parts to show up, and I couldn’t help but notice how simple it would be to make a few minor changes to how the part’s molded, and I wouldn’t have to do this mind numbingly boring job. Halfway through, I had to go take a leak. I shut the machine down, went and did my business, and when I came back, my parts were gone. Now, obviously nobody else did them, since that would mean that they actually had to work for a change. So where the fuck did they go? I start asking around in the shop, nobody knows. They didn’t even know what I was working on. Then Pete suggests I go see if One Eyed Jack has picked up the parts.

Sure as shit, the festering fool had grabbed the parts and started boxing them up, not grasping that they were obviously not done. He’d also mixed those parts with other parts that had already been done. So, I had to dig through all of those, seperate the completed from the incomplete, finish the job, and then take the parts back out to One Eye. (Mind you, we never have One Eye come in and pick up parts when they’re done. We always take the parts out to him.)

My anger’s pretty high at this point, and I’m yelling and cursing, and I mention to the mold maker that I’m going to sell all of my shit and move the fuck out of this state. He fails to understand why. Frankly, I fail to understand why I didn’t start killing everyone at that moment. Because that was all I could think about doing.

Ah. Well, if you do, remember to confess it to a preist and will not blame you, personally. try to find yourself a buffer or another job, cause I’m not sure yours is going to last much longe whwther you want it to or not.


I have read a few of your pit threads about you job and it has both amused me (espicially the sound effects one) and made me feel extremely sorry for you. I am a bit suprised though after all of the stupid shit that goes on there the event that almost sent you on a murder spree was someone mistakenly grabbing parts. From your pit threads that almost seems like a step up from all of the other stupid shit people do! Anyhow heres to you getting out of there as fast as you can.

Well, I just want to say, good for you for not killing everyone today. :smiley:
You’ve got a plan, you’re working on it, it’s coming along. Patience, young grasshopper.

Just a “Me, too” kind of post here. For the sake of your sanity and your cow-orker’s lives, get the fuck out of Dodge. Have you had your home appraised? Could you sell it as-is for the balance of the mortgage? Could you sell it as a “take over the payments” sort of arrangement? Will you lose more on it than the cost of repairs? Whatever it takes, you need to get out of that place. It’s obvious that you’re working way beneath your abilities in a place that values incompetence. I feel certain that your boss is one of those self-made types that worships their creator (themselves). I would peg him as the sort who only values an idea if he a) thought it up himself, or b) paid someone else too much for it. This personality type sees advice from someone else as exposing their stupidity for not thinking of it on their own.

To sum up, even though we’ve all enjoyed your rants about Pete Puma and his crew of merry lackwits, you need to get the hell out of there. It’s killing your soul and threatening your mental health. Leave now, while you still have a functioning liver.

Just out of curiosity, what parts were you making (if it’s not confidential)? Back when I was teaching in Hamamatsu, a lot of my students were Honda people (Hamamatsu’s their old HQ), and a lot of times we talked about people being sent over to the US to inspect plants or do other kinds of work.

Oh well. Congrats on not slaughtering everyone.

Hey, if you do break, can I claim to know you so that I can meet Dan Miller?

Sorry that things are so bum right now. How about switching car manufactures?

You sent bad parts to Honda? The responsible parties will turn up “missing”, possibly found years from now in drained swamps.

If I was you, I would go “on the lam”, erase your fingerprints with acid and go by the name “Rusty Shackleford”.


At a job I had some time ago, for a “major player”, I submited a proposal to increase profits by a mere 1% (only about 2 million dollars is all). Not only did it betray the fanfare it was given by non-implementation, I got fired a short time later by my lazy ass “team-leader” for ratting him out for sleeping in his cubicle.

Tucker, embrace retirement. Its pretty nice.

While Pete Puma seemed to be holding the company back, I never thought he could bankrupt it. Now, it seems like the owner and Braaad are running things into the ground and you’ll soon be out of a job.
Woo Hoo! You’ll come to Philly and set up the mobile home in a nearby parking lot. We’ll go around on trash day salvaging scrap. We’ll spend our days replicating movie props, and descending into insanity. Eventually, we’ll turn to armed robbery to finance our projects. Our Bender costumes will make us unrecognizable. Sadly, the authorities will have no difficulty locating our Dymaxion getaway device.

Our demand that the corpse of Harley Earl be exhumed and put on the stand as a witness for the defense will help convince the judge we’re insane. After a long stay in a locked institution (which never serves chocolate cake, only the yellow kind!), we are released to fame and fortune. The toy company we start does remarkably well. I finally get that career doing cartoon voices. You make an astounding amount of magazine covers. Your death is an international day of mourning. Millions turn out for a ceremony in which your earthly remains are sent aloft in a personal, solar powered zeppelin of your own design.
So, it all works out for the best.

I’m thinking there is a sitcom in all of this.

Holy shit Tuckerfan, you have the patience of Job with these people. Sometimes unemployment doesn’t look so bad.

And who the fuck can’t weld aluminum for Christ’s sake?!? Do me a favor tomorrow, when you see this idiot give him a :dubious: and a :rolleyes: and a :wally and a :smack: for me. And if you need bail, email me. :wink:

Can’t you make an anonymous call to OSHA or something? Molten steel is not something to fuck around with.

Ya know, the new Nissan plant in Mississippi is looking for people… I’ve heard that they’re having a hard time finding skilled folks. it’s prolly cheaper to live there too. Just a suggestion.

I “own” the trailer, but rent the lot, so if I want to get to close to breaking even then I’ve got to do the repairs.

Sublight, they’re for the tailgate on the new pick up. When I get some dinner in me, I’ll be back with the events of today, and links to pics.

Zoe, sure, but you’ve got to do a live interview with him, use terms like “quiet,” “kept to himself,” “adored his cats” in your descriptions of me (we mass-murderers have an image to maintain, don’t you know :wink: ), and you’ve got to get him to admit that Demetria Kalodimos is a bitch (you should hear what she had to say about Anne Holt that was positively catty) and that she got her Emmy for “Best Anchor Hair”.

gatopescado, unless you’re referring to “retirement” in the sense of Bladerunner, I’m pretty well boned, because I’ve got about another 40 years before I can retire (and another 40 on top of that before I can afford to retire).

DocCathode, no offense, pal, but Philly’s way too fucking cold for my tastes. I’m planning on moving to some place hot and dry, where when I have a really shitty day, I can just lay outside and let my brains bake (it’ll be a DIY lobotomy).

Zebra, ever seen the movie The Machinist? Definately not a sitcom, but not too far from my life.

duffer, sadly, the only way to draw unemployment in this state is to be laid off.

sturmhauke, I can’t post any details, but let’s just say that OSHA might be the least of their worries as far as the Feds go.

NinetyWt, uh, I’ve kind of had my fill of the backwoods, hillbilly types (99% of the people I work with), so I think I’ll pass on MS.

Screw the machinist job, become a writer instead.

I can’t wait for your third installment, “The Three-way Rumble between Braaaad, One Eye Jack, and Pete Puma.” It’s bound to happen.

From the sound of it, the movie would have to be written by Stephen King and directed by a clone of Stanley Kubrick. Or Sam Peckinpah. Or Satan.

Come to think of it, I don’t think the RL horrors could be accurately portrayed in film. :frowning:

I’m back. Today was a better day, for me, at least. Pete was pretty close to snapping, though. You see, when we got to work this morning, there were no Honda parts for us to run. Even “better,” we found out that they wouldn’t have any ready for us to run for hours. So, naturally, the mold maker figures he’ll strip the jig out of his mill and start working on some of the other jobs that have been piling up in the shop. Pete wanders off to do whatever it is he does in the morning, and I fired up the lathe to work on the bullshit job I was working on yesterday (that was non-Honda). The mold maker discovers that his mill’s not working right. Uh, oh. At about this time, someone’s managed to scrape up a few Honda parts that run on a different machine, so the mold maker starts running those. While he’s running those, he and Pete decide that we might ought to run all the Honda parts on the CNC, but in order to do that, we need to get a different cutter than the one’s we have. So Pete get’s on the phone, to try and track down one. This goes on till about 11, when the mold maker goes home to take care of a personal matter.

Pete gets a cutter ordered, and goes to check on the status of the Honda parts he’s been waiting on. ETA a couple of more hours. So Pete, starts tearing apart the mill. And he really tore it apart. I only wish I’d gotten a picture of Pete on top of the mill, pounding away on the top of it, trying to get the quill out of the mill, while the owner held on to the bottom of the quill to keep it from falling to the floor. Pete spent the next couple of hours working on fixing the problems. To Pete’s credit, he managed to get it working better than what it was before he tore it apart, and there was only one part leftover. :smiley:

While Pete’s working on the mill, he get’s a phone call, so he goes into the office to take it (the owner’s wandered off somewhere to harass someone else long before this). The owner’s son comes in (he’s about 19, not too bright, and a pot head [his dad is violently anti-drug, BTW]), asks me what’s going on, since some Honda parts have shown up. I explain everything, the kid leaves and I go back to work. Pete comes out, and starts working on the mill some more, when the owner walks in.

I’m on the other side of the shop, next to the CNC as it’s running, so I can’t hear what he’s saying to Pete. Neither one of them looked very happy, and I could hear that they were speaking in louder tones than normal. The owner storms out, Pete comes up to me, and he’s so mad, he’s having trouble keeping his false teeth in his mouth. Pete relates what happened, tells me that the owner wants me to tear down the set up on his machine, for tapping the holes in the Honda parts after they’ve been machined on the mold maker’s machine, and set that up to fly cut the Honda parts. Naturally, I get this done when Pete finishes fixing the mold maker’s machine. (And I’ve already shut the CNC machine down, so those parts aren’t getting ran.)

Mind you, it makes sense to fly cut the parts on the mold maker’s machine since there’s a lot of back and forth in cutting the parts, and the mold maker’s machine is the only one with the power feed. So, we tear down the set up on Pete’s machine and put it back on the mold maker’s machine. (BTW, the owner told Pete if we couldn’t crank out 400 of the Honda parts a day, he was going to fire all of us in the machine shop. Of course, it’s kind of hard to do that when they only have 156 Honda parts ready, and half of them are scrap.)

Periodically, the owner or other members of mismanagement would wander in and take a count of what we’re doing. I go back to running the CNC, since the parts Pete fly cuts, have to be blasted before I can tap them on Pete’s machine. Then, just as the parts come back from the blaster (which is in another building), the new guy they hired for second shift comes in. When we hired him, he said he had extensive CNC experience. Pete’s idea is to have him run the CNC while I tap the Honda parts. It turns out that his “extensive” experience is simply putting parts in the machine and taking them out. He doesn’t know what any of the buttons on the CNC do. So I have to train him on pushing the “hold” button while he pulls parts out of the machine, to keep him from getting a hole bored into his hand.

Eventually, we managed to get all the Honda parts done that we had (still far short of our goal), Pete rushed through training the new guy on how to do the job I had been working on when I got there this morning and then raced out of there, since his wife was threatening to divorce him if he didn’t get home early tonight. (Frankly, if I were him, I’d let her.) It’ll be interesting to see if any of us have jobs tomorrow.

Sounds like an episode of American Chopper…but without all the success. Working for small companies suck almost as bad as working for a large corporation and having your retirement stolen. Of course my small company doesnt offer retirement plans.

Tuck --have you applied at Texitron, that light aircraft manufacturer at the Int Airport?