Log 15: Quality Check
So apparently Featherlite operates out of two completely different buildings? And I had just never been to the other one until today? The second building is a few miles away from the main office, and is primarily used for storage. Today’s main activity was working with Jason (an Aquarius) and Mary (yet another Sagittarius!), to quality-check and relocate numerous 600lb crates full of exhibit parts for a security company from the main office to the storage office. My job was to open each crate, peel off any old lettering on the counters inside, wipe down the contents with lacquer, and then re-bolt the crate shut.
Jason’s job was to use the forklift to transport said crates from my workspace to an open semi truck trailer. As Jason rolled past me on the forklift, my dad commented, “Jason’s pretty much the forklift guy around here.” “I know,” I sighed wistfully. Like I hadn’t noticed.
While I was working on the crates, I was told several times to be extra careful not to get the lacquer thinner on the plastic parts of the counters inside, because it would melt them. I still don’t really understand why lacquer can melt through calculators and countertops, but it’s totally cool for me to get it on my hands. I guess some questions just aren’t meant to be answered.
Peeling off the old lettering on the counters proved to be the most painstaking aspect of the job. I think people assume that since I’m a girl I have nails to pick and peel things with, but I’ve consistently bitten mine to nubs since I was little. After noticing me struggling to peel the letters off, Mary suggested that I use a heat gun for the task instead.
“Oh yeah, the heat gun will get it done,” my dad agreed. Graeme nodded in approval. The heat gun, you say? Color me intrigued.
When I retrieved the heat gun, however, I was honestly a bit underwhelmed. It looked and handled exactly like a hair dryer, and it didn’t even heat up to any extreme temperatures. “It’s a hair dryer,” I remarked. “Heat gun,” my dad corrected me. Yeah, same difference. Are we sure I shouldn’t just go grab the blowtorch?
Once the crates were all loaded into the semi, I accompanied Mary to the storage office, not entirely sure what to expect. When we arrived, I was taken aback by the size of the space. It was ginormous, filled with row after row of orange and green pallet racks (they look similar to scaffolding) stacked an estimated fifty feet high. With all the colorful criss-crossing bars of the racks, it made for the kind of environment that would tempt an elementary school version of myself to climb all over them. Of course, being a mature, grown woman, I felt no such temptations walking through the warehouse with Mary.
Highlight: At the storage facility, one of the non-Featherlite employees helping us unpack our truck instructed me to use a pallet jack (it’s pretty much a big carjack with wheels) to move our crates into Featherlite’s area of the warehouse. Rather than explain to him that I don’t really know how to do things like that, I tried to quickly learn the proper pallet jacking technique through the cryptic infographics pasted on the handle. Surprisingly, I was successful, and slipped under the radar as an adequate employee.
