I could have saved you time and a possible roasted finger and told you the conclusion before you tried the experiment. Being first an electrical technician and later on an electrical engineer, I have had more than my fair share of electricity conducting jewelry close calls. (and know the theories/laws behind it also).
Had to stop wearing the wedding ring to work.
And do yourself a favor loCatek if you are going to wear rings, keep them all on the same hand. This way a path from one hand to the other is harder to be established. Don't want the heart in the path.
Welder World
Re: Welder World
Alas, poor Bart! I knew him well, a fellow of infinite
jest, of most excellent fancy. I hath borne him on my hand a
thousand times, and now how abhorr'd in my imagination it is!
My gorge rises at it.
Here hung that nail that I have clipped
I don’t know how many times. Where are your cuticles now?
Your quick? Your cartilage? Your flashes of polish that
always make the audience impressed? No one now, to envy
your own filing?
Quite nail-fallen?
...
Listen, sir,
What is the reason that you leave me this way?
I always loved you. But it’s not important.
Let Hercules himself do what he may,
The cat will mew and every dog will have his day.
And even nails will fall away.
jest, of most excellent fancy. I hath borne him on my hand a
thousand times, and now how abhorr'd in my imagination it is!
My gorge rises at it.
Here hung that nail that I have clipped
I don’t know how many times. Where are your cuticles now?
Your quick? Your cartilage? Your flashes of polish that
always make the audience impressed? No one now, to envy
your own filing?
Quite nail-fallen?
...
Listen, sir,
What is the reason that you leave me this way?
I always loved you. But it’s not important.
Let Hercules himself do what he may,
The cat will mew and every dog will have his day.
And even nails will fall away.
Re: Welder World
The Tale of Two Toilets .
My company continues to grow! From the hiring freezes in '09; to employing a night shift in '10 (meaning me); and now: muy mucho new workers and expanding the warehouse with another bay in '11. Bueno!
This was cool for me ..for about a second.
See: by being the only female on the work floor... oh, sure there was a gal who was a shipping clerk; Lucia the Lesbian was in the assembly 'clean-room'; plus of course, there was the receptionist and other office staff; but I, La Loca was the only lady doing dirty work with the guys on the manufacturing side.
Which made toilet arrangements a little tricky. Oh sure, the shop had six, well functioning private bathrooms – all men's! Not like I really cared , cause I would have still used'em. It wasn't like these were communal benches, nor public stalls; they were a single potty to a room with all the amenities: paper towels, sink and neat little trash can. That beat crouching over a hole in the field , waiting for a snake to bite you on the butt so, whatever sign that is posted on the door doesn't matter to me, if I can just go and pee in peace. ...but nooooooooo!
The boss insisted I tinkle with the ladies, and thus so, the world of the office washroom was opened onto me.
<insert Gospel Chorus singing 'Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh' here>
Whoa, they had real hand soap, and not that grainy, gray powder, that doesn't really work worth a damn. And a mirror! So that's what I look like, shoot, I got soot on my nose. Even a pleasant, after poop, lilac-scented, air freshener spray/deodorizer. Dis was da bomb - I'd never had a job perk like this before, and that neat little trash can had a liner, Woo-Hoo! Alas, it was not to last.
This year, that's all changed. The work floor was to be expanded in all ways, including toilets; which meant- A Woman's Room. <trumpets> A tiny, little, closet with a potty, just like the guy's room, wow.
Okay no problem, at least it was in the shop, and therefore closer to my workstation. Now, I wouldn't have that arduous walk to the washroom, anymore.
...which was what all the other [male] welders thought. Which is why, when the Men's Room is otherwise occupied, they just use mine. Whatever sign that is posted on the door doesn't matter to them, if they can just go and pee in peace.
Oh well, can't say I didn't tell ya so.
Epilogue:
That air freshener spray was missed; let's face it, dudes are stinky. However, in trying to smuggle in a can from the office, it just got stolen after the first day. <sigh> Oh well, it still beats a hole in the ground, 'eh?.
My company continues to grow! From the hiring freezes in '09; to employing a night shift in '10 (meaning me); and now: muy mucho new workers and expanding the warehouse with another bay in '11. Bueno!
This was cool for me ..for about a second.
See: by being the only female on the work floor... oh, sure there was a gal who was a shipping clerk; Lucia the Lesbian was in the assembly 'clean-room'; plus of course, there was the receptionist and other office staff; but I, La Loca was the only lady doing dirty work with the guys on the manufacturing side.
Which made toilet arrangements a little tricky. Oh sure, the shop had six, well functioning private bathrooms – all men's! Not like I really cared , cause I would have still used'em. It wasn't like these were communal benches, nor public stalls; they were a single potty to a room with all the amenities: paper towels, sink and neat little trash can. That beat crouching over a hole in the field , waiting for a snake to bite you on the butt so, whatever sign that is posted on the door doesn't matter to me, if I can just go and pee in peace. ...but nooooooooo!
The boss insisted I tinkle with the ladies, and thus so, the world of the office washroom was opened onto me.
<insert Gospel Chorus singing 'Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh' here>
Whoa, they had real hand soap, and not that grainy, gray powder, that doesn't really work worth a damn. And a mirror! So that's what I look like, shoot, I got soot on my nose. Even a pleasant, after poop, lilac-scented, air freshener spray/deodorizer. Dis was da bomb - I'd never had a job perk like this before, and that neat little trash can had a liner, Woo-Hoo! Alas, it was not to last.
This year, that's all changed. The work floor was to be expanded in all ways, including toilets; which meant- A Woman's Room. <trumpets> A tiny, little, closet with a potty, just like the guy's room, wow.
Okay no problem, at least it was in the shop, and therefore closer to my workstation. Now, I wouldn't have that arduous walk to the washroom, anymore.
...which was what all the other [male] welders thought. Which is why, when the Men's Room is otherwise occupied, they just use mine. Whatever sign that is posted on the door doesn't matter to them, if they can just go and pee in peace.
Oh well, can't say I didn't tell ya so.
Epilogue:
That air freshener spray was missed; let's face it, dudes are stinky. However, in trying to smuggle in a can from the office, it just got stolen after the first day. <sigh> Oh well, it still beats a hole in the ground, 'eh?.
Re: Welder World
Super Soldadera gains a costume accessory, at last!
I t was supposed to be a flag...
During Hockey Season not so long ago, at the Stanley Cup semi-finals - once again the San Jose Sharks™ started setting up their fan base for disappointment.
Just so happens, my bosses are also serious fans; to the point of buying season tickets every year to a VIP box, that they watch the games from with their best customers.
Oh, they're under no illusions about the team's (lack-of) prowess, As I once heard it put 'round the water-cooler, "The Sharks™ are the Raiders of Hockey!" ...or put more simply, by the Owner himself, 'Da Sharks™ suck!' but that doesn't stop him from supporting the franchise.
Shark support is a Silicon Valley thang; part of the social scene; imprinted upon our cultural identity.
I think that's because they're the first sports team the city has ever officially bought/recognized. Oh sure, there was the San Jose Earthquakes™ soccer team ...and by that, I mean the original Earthquakes™, not the renamed 'Clash' that never generated any interest. Nah, The 'Quakes, as presided over by The one and only 'Krazy' George, human mascot;
A San Ho celebrity, inventor of the 'The Wave',
While an enthusiastic mascot, initially George wasn't getting paid to cheer. NO, he was not a hired hand of anyone, he was just loco enough to love the local sports, while wielding enough manual dexterity to bang a drum. Sadly, 'Krazy' George has had to retire from cheerleading, but he still runs a self-named restaurant in Aptos, these days.
Meanwhile, back to the Sharks™;
They've pervaded the culture of San Ho, so much so, that the resident Rap artists: the Locstas, Teal Town Boyz and 408 Riderz, et al, tattoo sharks on their feet and call themselves San Jose sharks (lower case) in concert. It signifies they're 'gangsta', and qualified to wear the team collahs.
So anywayZ,
I was wantin' to represent my Sharks™ and buy me a car flag like they sell to fly from the rear window of your auto, which I was gonna fly from my bike seat, somehow. You know: those things that hook onto the back seat window glass when it's rolled up? I could do it from a bike, 'cha'.
BUT!
I couldn't find one, by then most local vendors were sold out, and I wasn't gonna pay top dollar at some sportZ shop.
Thus alas, I had resigned myself to being flagless...
When:
One morning I was biking to work as I've always done(running late), and La Loca noticed something sharkishly, serendipitous on the sidewalk. Quickly, I braked and grabbed the clothed icon, threw it across my handlebars and raced to work. Turns out, it was a golf towel, some promotional gimme from a previous game, imprinted with the Sharks™ logo, and thereby, good enough.
Technically it was wasn't a flag, however I flew it from the back of my backpack none-the-less, while drawing the envy of one of my bosses who didn't have the same said golf towel. ...I know he envied it, he told me so himself! an' I got a few honks on the road, too.
Well, as stated previously; the Sharks™ sucked as per usual, and thus so the towel by now, has moved forward to better use, to hang on the handle bars as a sweat rag.
Juss sayin', it flew as a cape for while, but it's more practical as a hygienic aid in my 'hood.
I t was supposed to be a flag...
During Hockey Season not so long ago, at the Stanley Cup semi-finals - once again the San Jose Sharks™ started setting up their fan base for disappointment.
Just so happens, my bosses are also serious fans; to the point of buying season tickets every year to a VIP box, that they watch the games from with their best customers.
Oh, they're under no illusions about the team's (lack-of) prowess, As I once heard it put 'round the water-cooler, "The Sharks™ are the Raiders of Hockey!" ...or put more simply, by the Owner himself, 'Da Sharks™ suck!' but that doesn't stop him from supporting the franchise.
Shark support is a Silicon Valley thang; part of the social scene; imprinted upon our cultural identity.
I think that's because they're the first sports team the city has ever officially bought/recognized. Oh sure, there was the San Jose Earthquakes™ soccer team ...and by that, I mean the original Earthquakes™, not the renamed 'Clash' that never generated any interest. Nah, The 'Quakes, as presided over by The one and only 'Krazy' George, human mascot;
A San Ho celebrity, inventor of the 'The Wave',
While an enthusiastic mascot, initially George wasn't getting paid to cheer. NO, he was not a hired hand of anyone, he was just loco enough to love the local sports, while wielding enough manual dexterity to bang a drum. Sadly, 'Krazy' George has had to retire from cheerleading, but he still runs a self-named restaurant in Aptos, these days.
Meanwhile, back to the Sharks™;
They've pervaded the culture of San Ho, so much so, that the resident Rap artists: the Locstas, Teal Town Boyz and 408 Riderz, et al, tattoo sharks on their feet and call themselves San Jose sharks (lower case) in concert. It signifies they're 'gangsta', and qualified to wear the team collahs.
So anywayZ,
I was wantin' to represent my Sharks™ and buy me a car flag like they sell to fly from the rear window of your auto, which I was gonna fly from my bike seat, somehow. You know: those things that hook onto the back seat window glass when it's rolled up? I could do it from a bike, 'cha'.
BUT!
I couldn't find one, by then most local vendors were sold out, and I wasn't gonna pay top dollar at some sportZ shop.
Thus alas, I had resigned myself to being flagless...
When:
One morning I was biking to work as I've always done(running late), and La Loca noticed something sharkishly, serendipitous on the sidewalk. Quickly, I braked and grabbed the clothed icon, threw it across my handlebars and raced to work. Turns out, it was a golf towel, some promotional gimme from a previous game, imprinted with the Sharks™ logo, and thereby, good enough.
Technically it was wasn't a flag, however I flew it from the back of my backpack none-the-less, while drawing the envy of one of my bosses who didn't have the same said golf towel. ...I know he envied it, he told me so himself! an' I got a few honks on the road, too.
Well, as stated previously; the Sharks™ sucked as per usual, and thus so the towel by now, has moved forward to better use, to hang on the handle bars as a sweat rag.
Juss sayin', it flew as a cape for while, but it's more practical as a hygienic aid in my 'hood.
Re: Welder World
Back to Bart...
I know you've been wondering about him, I just know it.
Well, Barty's been growing up so fast ~sniff~. His nail has nearly completely grown back and the numbness has receded to just the tip of the thumb and scar tissue zone, that's right I have a scar WOO-HOO! Who knows for how long, but there it is, huzzah!
The weirdest thing is that Bart gets cold so easily, a friend of mine (okay, it was Alpha Dog) told me that I'd probably killed the 'nerve tree'. Alpha knows all about being bashed, gashed, thrashed, smashed, crashed and slashed; pretty darn well, so I had to assume that this arbor reference had something to do with why I couldn't keep Bart warm enough?
He was sayin', my tree'd been trimmed and didn't reach as far up the fifth finger anymore? That would also explain why there's still that teeny patch of numbness to the skin in and around the herniated tissue area. No nerve branches, meant no request for heat being sent to or from the opposable digit.
Damn, winter will be interesting.
No, the weirdest thing is: Bart has a butt.
Yea, the hernia not being able to cross the scar tissue line has left my thumb tip with two matching bumps that look suspiciously like tiny buttocks.
Some people have their thumb up their butts?
I have my butt up my thumb!
I know you've been wondering about him, I just know it.
Well, Barty's been growing up so fast ~sniff~. His nail has nearly completely grown back and the numbness has receded to just the tip of the thumb and scar tissue zone, that's right I have a scar WOO-HOO! Who knows for how long, but there it is, huzzah!
The weirdest thing is that Bart gets cold so easily, a friend of mine (okay, it was Alpha Dog) told me that I'd probably killed the 'nerve tree'. Alpha knows all about being bashed, gashed, thrashed, smashed, crashed and slashed; pretty darn well, so I had to assume that this arbor reference had something to do with why I couldn't keep Bart warm enough?
He was sayin', my tree'd been trimmed and didn't reach as far up the fifth finger anymore? That would also explain why there's still that teeny patch of numbness to the skin in and around the herniated tissue area. No nerve branches, meant no request for heat being sent to or from the opposable digit.
Damn, winter will be interesting.
No, the weirdest thing is: Bart has a butt.
Yea, the hernia not being able to cross the scar tissue line has left my thumb tip with two matching bumps that look suspiciously like tiny buttocks.
Some people have their thumb up their butts?
I have my butt up my thumb!
Re: Welder World
My Flips have flipped!
The Prologue:
"Sherman, set the WABAC machine to ..."
November 2010: when Diego the floor manager tried to get me fired. No; it wasn't personal, it's just that a ba$$illion dollar order was coming in from Novellus (real customer, I can say. because they use every welding company in the Silicon Valley. Shoot, they helped create the Silicon Valley.) ...and production had to be ramped up exponentially. What better way to do that, than to fire the welder-chick, 'eh?
I'd only been doing what I was hired to do, which was fast production work, however the Novellus order required finer precision welding skills than I possessed. Hey, I've admitted that from the get-go, to you and the Company -that I'm good, but I only aspire to greatness; I'm just not there yet.
Rather than, oh I dunno, give me further training? Diego decided to write me up on the grounds of “Slow and low productivity.” . [!!!?]
In case you hadn't already noticed, Diego's turned into something of a dick.
...
I'm not the only one who thinks so. His sexual harassment had got kinda gotten on everyone’s nerves ...no, not just mine, but to all the fellow male employees . That's right, Diego harassed the men. So much so, I was getting pretty sure that he was gay; macho, but gay. It happens. (Hey, gays can be dicks too, not all of them are like the Fab Five.)
Everybody knew Diego wasn't married, but it was the way he would titty twist the guys and threaten to kiss'em if they didn't shape up and put out, that had me suspicious. I, La Loca, personally witnessed he holding the pecs of a guy from behind in a sexual manner; now, I think that's inappropriate touching, but maybe that’s just me?
Naaaaaaaaaaaah. His passive aggressive ways were to get the workers pissed off, and then he'd flaunt his position of power by sexually taunting them <bleh> Only one guy actually protested to HR ...and guess who else got written up for bad performance? That poor guy didn't make it either, and was later fired to satisfy Diego's control-freaky ego.
...and no, this was not helping to improve general productivity.
La Loca however, he could not harass overtly; that would have been way too obviously against OSHA standards. Instead, he tried to do his bullying by the book and gave me job orders beyond my skill level, then reported me to the President of the company for the a fore mentioned, “Slow and low productivity.”. <double-bleh>
Now the PreZ ain't stoopid, while he wanted production raised, he could see I was a hard worker, and so rather than fire me, I was transferred to another department, until such a time as there wold be welding work I could do. In the interim, I worked in Hardware (where I bashed my thumb; shhhhhh don't tell, they still don't know.) and eventually I wound up in Assembly. This wasn't so bad, for it was from there that I witnessed the downfall of Diego the Dick. That I had a small part in his demise, just makes it that tiny bit sweeter
See, the PreZ, smart guy that he is; did in fact notice Diego's power-tripping, and was said to have grumbled at a production staff meeting, “He's gettin' too big for his britches!”
So, the Prez's first try at reining him in was to put Diego on the reinstated night-shift. There were fewer people he could piss off there, but somehow he managed it.
...When he hired his girlfriend's daughter of highly questionable fashion sense (she's a barely legal adult 18 yr-old, who doesn't know if she's Goth, Gangsta or Girly-Girl, and so wears elements of each, with enough piercings, tatts and hair dye. to make her a human 'Hot Topic' store.) Nobody questioned the hiring of a no-nothin'.
...When said psuedo-daughter screwed up a $650K job and ran to her faux-daddy, blaming the day-shift for the FUBAR. Nobody appreciated that she whined harder than she worked,
...When Diego finally got pissed off enough himself, to choke hold a new worker, while brandishing a screwdriver to his throat ...well, bad juju will happen when you try to kill people, and nobody thought that that was cool, including the PreZ who had had enough of his bullsh!t, and fired his ass. Woo-Hoo!
Me? I was assembling Hair Frames in Assembly with the Flip.
Yea, the Flip I mentioned in the title! I finally got around to her!
..but enough with the prologue, it's over, you gotta wait for Part One for the rest!
<nyeh>
The Prologue:
"Sherman, set the WABAC machine to ..."
November 2010: when Diego the floor manager tried to get me fired. No; it wasn't personal, it's just that a ba$$illion dollar order was coming in from Novellus (real customer, I can say. because they use every welding company in the Silicon Valley. Shoot, they helped create the Silicon Valley.) ...and production had to be ramped up exponentially. What better way to do that, than to fire the welder-chick, 'eh?
I'd only been doing what I was hired to do, which was fast production work, however the Novellus order required finer precision welding skills than I possessed. Hey, I've admitted that from the get-go, to you and the Company -that I'm good, but I only aspire to greatness; I'm just not there yet.
Rather than, oh I dunno, give me further training? Diego decided to write me up on the grounds of “Slow and low productivity.” . [!!!?]
In case you hadn't already noticed, Diego's turned into something of a dick.
...
I'm not the only one who thinks so. His sexual harassment had got kinda gotten on everyone’s nerves ...no, not just mine, but to all the fellow male employees . That's right, Diego harassed the men. So much so, I was getting pretty sure that he was gay; macho, but gay. It happens. (Hey, gays can be dicks too, not all of them are like the Fab Five.)
Everybody knew Diego wasn't married, but it was the way he would titty twist the guys and threaten to kiss'em if they didn't shape up and put out, that had me suspicious. I, La Loca, personally witnessed he holding the pecs of a guy from behind in a sexual manner; now, I think that's inappropriate touching, but maybe that’s just me?
Naaaaaaaaaaaah. His passive aggressive ways were to get the workers pissed off, and then he'd flaunt his position of power by sexually taunting them <bleh> Only one guy actually protested to HR ...and guess who else got written up for bad performance? That poor guy didn't make it either, and was later fired to satisfy Diego's control-freaky ego.
...and no, this was not helping to improve general productivity.
La Loca however, he could not harass overtly; that would have been way too obviously against OSHA standards. Instead, he tried to do his bullying by the book and gave me job orders beyond my skill level, then reported me to the President of the company for the a fore mentioned, “Slow and low productivity.”. <double-bleh>
Now the PreZ ain't stoopid, while he wanted production raised, he could see I was a hard worker, and so rather than fire me, I was transferred to another department, until such a time as there wold be welding work I could do. In the interim, I worked in Hardware (where I bashed my thumb; shhhhhh don't tell, they still don't know.) and eventually I wound up in Assembly. This wasn't so bad, for it was from there that I witnessed the downfall of Diego the Dick. That I had a small part in his demise, just makes it that tiny bit sweeter
See, the PreZ, smart guy that he is; did in fact notice Diego's power-tripping, and was said to have grumbled at a production staff meeting, “He's gettin' too big for his britches!”
So, the Prez's first try at reining him in was to put Diego on the reinstated night-shift. There were fewer people he could piss off there, but somehow he managed it.
...When he hired his girlfriend's daughter of highly questionable fashion sense (she's a barely legal adult 18 yr-old, who doesn't know if she's Goth, Gangsta or Girly-Girl, and so wears elements of each, with enough piercings, tatts and hair dye. to make her a human 'Hot Topic' store.) Nobody questioned the hiring of a no-nothin'.
...When said psuedo-daughter screwed up a $650K job and ran to her faux-daddy, blaming the day-shift for the FUBAR. Nobody appreciated that she whined harder than she worked,
...When Diego finally got pissed off enough himself, to choke hold a new worker, while brandishing a screwdriver to his throat ...well, bad juju will happen when you try to kill people, and nobody thought that that was cool, including the PreZ who had had enough of his bullsh!t, and fired his ass. Woo-Hoo!
Me? I was assembling Hair Frames in Assembly with the Flip.
Yea, the Flip I mentioned in the title! I finally got around to her!
..but enough with the prologue, it's over, you gotta wait for Part One for the rest!
<nyeh>
Last edited by loCAtek on Sun Oct 16, 2011 11:30 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Re: Welder World
My Flips have flipped!
Part One:
Well, what did I have to do with Diego the Dick, getting whacked, you may be wondering?
Maybe you're not wondering; maybe you're flat out demanding answers and explanations for my acting out so anti-socially against a work-associate?
How should I know? I don't think about it, I just do it subconciously; so, why push it? That's like asking why do the fish swim and the bees buzz? They just do, Okay!?
...and besides he deserved it, that dick/dork. I only went over his head, and started working directly for the President of the company; I did! That I stepped on his so-called, step-daughter's tits to make my way up the corporate manufacturing ladder, was simply a matter of circumstances beyond my control: Hey, I couldn't help that she sucked!
Her being 'sick' or 'on vacation' a third of the time only cemented her sterling reputation as a slacker; and nothing was going to stop her self-imposed, downward spiral to a pink slip. So, I just shushed along that slalom till the specific job specs opened up.
So, one on of those days, when she was sleeping off a hang-overjust didn't show up; La Loca was snagged as Assembly-Woman Assistant to Lucia-the-Lesbian, building- Hair Frames.
Pause to explain what a 'Hair Frame' is:
A Hair Frame is exactly what it sounds like- a small, medical, plastic frame holding six tiny locks of real human hair for testing. Talk about your fancy extensions; they were not only organic, but superior quality, from Virgin Nuns in the Alps of Spain! No joke. Our stock of such hair cost over $2,500- a bunch. You ain't gonna get this stuff from your regular salon supplier ...ever. They generally only provide Indian and/or Asian hair to the average consumer and that includes western, high-class celebrities. This shock was beyond top notch, and therefore, extremely valuable to the company.
It was said our whole medical line of product$ was based on these Hair Frames.
,,,and why was I, La Loca chosen to do it?
They take an extremely fine and patient touch to complete; dealing with single human hairs at a time, has driven many former employees postal and/or otherwise insane enough to foam at the mouth and quit, before they brought automatic weapons to work. Me? I'm not phased by such meticulous detail, day after tedious day... so, I was kept on that detail.
Wish I could say more about Lucia, but she's gone... she slid off into the sunset of work-related, spinal injury. She only needed to train someone to stand in her place, and then she was shuffling off to Sayonara-ville. See ya.
My usurping Diego's step-daughter, to serve in Lucia's stead, only served to steam the already disturbed Dick Lord of the Sith; which lead to the aforementioned incident with the screwdriver... Sheesh.
Leaving me taking over, in that triple, termination vacuum. Ta-Da!
Having the President fawn over me, was fairly nice for a while. Oh, I knew he was faking it; he has no affection for anything other than fat bank accounts, but filling in for the female assembly work-force was well worth the phoniness; I just wasn’t fooled.
Hence, no surprise the Flip has hired, forth-with!
My output had impressed the customer so much, they wanted more ...and a co-worker who could finally drive me to distraction was born.
Next: Getting in my hair!
Part One:
Well, what did I have to do with Diego the Dick, getting whacked, you may be wondering?
Maybe you're not wondering; maybe you're flat out demanding answers and explanations for my acting out so anti-socially against a work-associate?
How should I know? I don't think about it, I just do it subconciously; so, why push it? That's like asking why do the fish swim and the bees buzz? They just do, Okay!?
...and besides he deserved it, that dick/dork. I only went over his head, and started working directly for the President of the company; I did! That I stepped on his so-called, step-daughter's tits to make my way up the corporate manufacturing ladder, was simply a matter of circumstances beyond my control: Hey, I couldn't help that she sucked!
Her being 'sick' or 'on vacation' a third of the time only cemented her sterling reputation as a slacker; and nothing was going to stop her self-imposed, downward spiral to a pink slip. So, I just shushed along that slalom till the specific job specs opened up.
So, one on of those days, when she was sleeping off a hang-overjust didn't show up; La Loca was snagged as Assembly-Woman Assistant to Lucia-the-Lesbian, building- Hair Frames.
Pause to explain what a 'Hair Frame' is:
A Hair Frame is exactly what it sounds like- a small, medical, plastic frame holding six tiny locks of real human hair for testing. Talk about your fancy extensions; they were not only organic, but superior quality, from Virgin Nuns in the Alps of Spain! No joke. Our stock of such hair cost over $2,500- a bunch. You ain't gonna get this stuff from your regular salon supplier ...ever. They generally only provide Indian and/or Asian hair to the average consumer and that includes western, high-class celebrities. This shock was beyond top notch, and therefore, extremely valuable to the company.
It was said our whole medical line of product$ was based on these Hair Frames.
,,,and why was I, La Loca chosen to do it?
They take an extremely fine and patient touch to complete; dealing with single human hairs at a time, has driven many former employees postal and/or otherwise insane enough to foam at the mouth and quit, before they brought automatic weapons to work. Me? I'm not phased by such meticulous detail, day after tedious day... so, I was kept on that detail.
Wish I could say more about Lucia, but she's gone... she slid off into the sunset of work-related, spinal injury. She only needed to train someone to stand in her place, and then she was shuffling off to Sayonara-ville. See ya.
My usurping Diego's step-daughter, to serve in Lucia's stead, only served to steam the already disturbed Dick Lord of the Sith; which lead to the aforementioned incident with the screwdriver... Sheesh.
Leaving me taking over, in that triple, termination vacuum. Ta-Da!
Having the President fawn over me, was fairly nice for a while. Oh, I knew he was faking it; he has no affection for anything other than fat bank accounts, but filling in for the female assembly work-force was well worth the phoniness; I just wasn’t fooled.
Hence, no surprise the Flip has hired, forth-with!
My output had impressed the customer so much, they wanted more ...and a co-worker who could finally drive me to distraction was born.
Next: Getting in my hair!
Last edited by loCAtek on Mon Oct 17, 2011 10:02 am, edited 1 time in total.
Re: Welder World
From which part of the body is this hair obtained?superior quality, from Virgin Nuns in the Alps of Spain! No joke. Our stock of such hair cost over $2,500- a bunch.
Re: Welder World
Indeed the coiffure is a fascinating, if not a little creepy, subject.
While the Hair Frame assembly station is a star attraction of the shop tours, the PreZ will give the customers. ...Yes, it's head hair; frankly, I've never heard of anybody ever giving away good money for bodily hair!
Have you? If you have, I don't wanna know about it, okay?
You more often hear about folks paying big bucks to get rid of unsightly body hair, 'cha know.
As for the locks- did you know that no matter what the cost to the consumer, the actual donors of the tresses, never make a cent?
That's because the reasons for the hair cutting are usually religious; the practice of head shearing is better known as 'Tonsure'. Westerners are most familiar with the look on Franciscan monks;
...but many cultures and faiths practice this ritual, which is why as said above, most of the world's extensions come from India, or Asia.
For more on this industry- there's a realty informative and funny film by Chris Rock called;
'Good Hair'.
...but like I said the hair the shop uses for testing is from Spain. The reason for that is two-fold; One) The convent up in the Alps, is high above the pollution layer. The hair has not been exposed to smog, car exhaust nor any industrial waste by-products of any kind. Two) The Nuns have led very clean lives, with never having smoked, drank or eaten processed foods with unnatural chemicals in them. So, their do's are completely pure from the inside out.
You should feel this stuff - it's the softest, smoothest, silken strands, ever sensed, seriously!
That's kinda the creepy part, my pawing through a Holy Catholic Nun's hair ...and liking it!
While the Hair Frame assembly station is a star attraction of the shop tours, the PreZ will give the customers. ...Yes, it's head hair; frankly, I've never heard of anybody ever giving away good money for bodily hair!
Have you? If you have, I don't wanna know about it, okay?
You more often hear about folks paying big bucks to get rid of unsightly body hair, 'cha know.
As for the locks- did you know that no matter what the cost to the consumer, the actual donors of the tresses, never make a cent?
That's because the reasons for the hair cutting are usually religious; the practice of head shearing is better known as 'Tonsure'. Westerners are most familiar with the look on Franciscan monks;
...but many cultures and faiths practice this ritual, which is why as said above, most of the world's extensions come from India, or Asia.
For more on this industry- there's a realty informative and funny film by Chris Rock called;
'Good Hair'.
...but like I said the hair the shop uses for testing is from Spain. The reason for that is two-fold; One) The convent up in the Alps, is high above the pollution layer. The hair has not been exposed to smog, car exhaust nor any industrial waste by-products of any kind. Two) The Nuns have led very clean lives, with never having smoked, drank or eaten processed foods with unnatural chemicals in them. So, their do's are completely pure from the inside out.
You should feel this stuff - it's the softest, smoothest, silken strands, ever sensed, seriously!
That's kinda the creepy part, my pawing through a Holy Catholic Nun's hair ...and liking it!
Re: Welder World
My Flips have flipped!
Part Two: Getting in my hair!
So, how bad was she?
She was my worst freakin', female nightmare ...and she loved me.
She was my geeky, flip roommate in drag, with all the extra-strength, insecure, baggage of a pinay-princess and not an ounce of spine in her. She was like a puppy-dog you can't cure from peeing on you in abject joy, just because you walk in the door. Ugh, ick, cute, ew.
Yea, she was cute ...you know how tiny Philippinas can be? Well, she was one of the few examples of the human species that was bred smaller than me! So suddenly, I was her Big Sister in this Big, Bad, World of American Employment. While her neurosis made her literally, physically cling to me in neediness … I could barely even stand it. There were days after work, I'd shower and scrub with steelwool to get her stink offa me, after so much close contact. I started setting up our work stations with a garbage can strategically placed between us soZ, hopefully she'd stop leaning on me so much.
No really, the first week, while we had a seven foot counter to work on, she'd stand, not beside me, but up against me. Right. up. Against. me. Right up, until my skin started to crawl, and I implemented the garbage can option, but before I had to beat her off with multiple blows from a steel pipe.
So sayin', I think she was gay ...lesbo whatever.
She sure did talk a lot about that a lot for a married chick.
First, were all the compliments about how pretty I was.
I thought maybe, it was a Philippina-thing, to say how much you found another female's features attractive... I've had enough gay-girls tell me as such ...but I didn't have to work with them every day. Yet, she kept describing how lovely my looks were to her! Okay, whatever.
Then, there were the questions about what I thought of 'gay-love'? Well, I was accepting of it, of course, I was born and raised in the Bay Area, and for a hetro, I had no problem with it ...but the questions just didn't stop. Not for weeks. Not until she finally asked, ”Would you like to have sex with a woman?”
“Uh, no.”
“Nothing, personal but I'm a hard-wired hetro. I have a boyfriend whom I love.”
…
Thus so, she started arguing with me, trying to convince me: “Why not ...Women can be so much more loving!”
Um, so? So, you married a man, to get into this country and now you're looking for a lesbian lover to take care of you? I may be a welder, but I'm not Butch, Okay? That's a MYTH, that all working women have to be that way. Get off me, b!tch, please!
Part Two: Getting in my hair!
So, how bad was she?
She was my worst freakin', female nightmare ...and she loved me.
She was my geeky, flip roommate in drag, with all the extra-strength, insecure, baggage of a pinay-princess and not an ounce of spine in her. She was like a puppy-dog you can't cure from peeing on you in abject joy, just because you walk in the door. Ugh, ick, cute, ew.
Yea, she was cute ...you know how tiny Philippinas can be? Well, she was one of the few examples of the human species that was bred smaller than me! So suddenly, I was her Big Sister in this Big, Bad, World of American Employment. While her neurosis made her literally, physically cling to me in neediness … I could barely even stand it. There were days after work, I'd shower and scrub with steelwool to get her stink offa me, after so much close contact. I started setting up our work stations with a garbage can strategically placed between us soZ, hopefully she'd stop leaning on me so much.
No really, the first week, while we had a seven foot counter to work on, she'd stand, not beside me, but up against me. Right. up. Against. me. Right up, until my skin started to crawl, and I implemented the garbage can option, but before I had to beat her off with multiple blows from a steel pipe.
So sayin', I think she was gay ...lesbo whatever.
She sure did talk a lot about that a lot for a married chick.
First, were all the compliments about how pretty I was.
I thought maybe, it was a Philippina-thing, to say how much you found another female's features attractive... I've had enough gay-girls tell me as such ...but I didn't have to work with them every day. Yet, she kept describing how lovely my looks were to her! Okay, whatever.
Then, there were the questions about what I thought of 'gay-love'? Well, I was accepting of it, of course, I was born and raised in the Bay Area, and for a hetro, I had no problem with it ...but the questions just didn't stop. Not for weeks. Not until she finally asked, ”Would you like to have sex with a woman?”
“Uh, no.”
“Nothing, personal but I'm a hard-wired hetro. I have a boyfriend whom I love.”
…
Thus so, she started arguing with me, trying to convince me: “Why not ...Women can be so much more loving!”
Um, so? So, you married a man, to get into this country and now you're looking for a lesbian lover to take care of you? I may be a welder, but I'm not Butch, Okay? That's a MYTH, that all working women have to be that way. Get off me, b!tch, please!