Hi Ho. Hi Ho.

Friday was our first full day at the plant. Oh man.

We pull up about 30 minutes before our shift starts. First mistake. The guys at the plant are notorious for showing up a bit after 8 and skipping out on small tasks. Great. We're fitting in so well already, even before we've officially started. The guys start pulling up, and as they step out of their old, beat-up Chevys and Fords, they're not even trying to hide the fact that they're totally sizing us up as we sit in our little Honda CR-V.

So the way that the maintenance crew works is after clocking in, they all head over to the welding department and wait for Doug Brock, the maintenance manager, to give them their individual assignments. Griffin and I had been trying to psych each other up the whole ride over, and as we stepped into the welding building, I honestly felt like we were ready to do this. 

Let me take you back, to a time which you may have tried to forget. Indulge me, and pull out from the "Never Remember Again" lobe the years that you spent in 5-8 grade. Specifically, the lunchtime/recess memories. Walk around in your reveries until you find that awkward new kid, who was dead silent, didn't know anybody, and kind of stayed to him/herself. Maybe his/her family just moved to your city, and the poor kid had to start making new friends in middle school. Maybe his/her family got black-balled by another school district because of a communist-sympathyzing scandal. Whatever, I'm not judging, it works in theory ok? Everyone knows that kid. 

We step into the welding department like we were fresh out of a 1999 small-town commie uproar. Right when we step through the door, every single eye is fixed on us, and every single left corner of every single mouth curls up a few centimeters (the same side at the same time, it was quite impressive...). It would be impossible for two more-different groups of people to meet. These guys were diiiiirty. Their uniforms were caked with salt, their boots were ripped and scuffed, their teeth were gone, and they were real happy to see us. My dad has told us about the type of people that he hired for the maintenance crew: these guys can do everything. They all have their CDLs, they can re-wired a motor, overhaul a pump, work over a transmission, do I need to continue? Their hands are thick and calloused, with more scabs and cuts than I thought were possible at one time. In the mean time, Griffin and I are standing there in our Buckle jeans, brand new long-sleeve t's, our unscuffed boots, and pure white, unadulterated hard hats. Oh, if you could only have seen the predicament we were in. It was truly like middle school again, and if possible, worse. So Griffin and I stood, off to the side by ourselves for a good 20 minutes, while all the guys joked, pranked, and made fun of each other in between menacing glares at us (truly, I do not embellish). A few of them were passing around an oil dipstick, quizzing each other: diesel or unleaded? For the sake of my time and your growing boredom, I will save a full character profile for the following few posts.

Doug gave us the job of loading a boxcar full of pallets of sodium sulfate with a guy named Joe Nolan. Joe was born and raised in Brownfield (the nearest town), has a wife and four kids, who are studs at basketball (his 9 year-old just got second in the Little Dribblers national tournament). He is 33, but looks not a day over 20. I guess this would be the reason for his nickname, "Baby J" (technically, his full name is Joe Baby J Big Daddy Nolan). He has two gold teeth, and a penchant for dirty rap and Crown. Joe was wonderful to work with. He told us about the town and company, he taught us how hook up a semi, and let us try to drive the fork-lift (a big no-go as I was later told). It was a long job, and while I am totally positive that we slowed him down immensely, Joe never complained nor made us feel unwelcome. When we got back, he introduced us to a bunch of the other guys, and let us follow him around the rest of the day.

We clocked out, and when we got to the car, we looked at each other and surveyed ourselves. We were COVERED in salt. You know how when you sweat, and then it evaporates, and you're left with salt rings? Imagine that on every inch of your body. My longish hair was crusted together, and our pants were as stiff as stainless steel. 

We wake up before the sun rises. We wear hardhats and steel-toed boots to work. When we got home, it took us both 20 minutes to get mildly clean. I may be premature in saying this, but I think that we are going to accomplish what we came here to do. Its going to be awesome

*Skills Learned*

Shoot Skeet/Trap

Hookup/theoretically operate a semi

Drive a forklift

Load/secure a railcar