|Tonight when I arrived at work I noticed that my employee locker, #2516, that has been in the same location for almost two years had been unbolted from the concrete floor and removed. It was a small locker, bolted to other lockers like it in a row about 10 lockers long. In it’s place someone had installed a bulletin board containing q-notes. Q-notes are pictures of rejected parts with the attached clock number of the employee that welded it. Imagine my disposition. I go in, welding mask, flak-jacket, leather gloves, hard hat, huge bottle of Tabasco sauce, all gone without a word.
Later on after I called the second shift supervisor/pig-boss Randy. I told him that my locker was gone and I had no idea where the hell it was. He told me that the row of lockers had been moved to make room for the new Gestapo swine-hund bulletin board. He said all the lockers had been consolidated into there individual job stations and I would find my locker at my station. I did not find my locker anywhere in my area. So I called him a second time.
“Randy, where’s my locker?” I said.
“Hold on I’ll come look,” he said.
After an HOUR of searching, he and I walking up to every person in the department looking for my locker like a couple of marco-polo hollering idiots, we found it three aisles away in the machining area. Someone had bolted it to the machinists row of lockers and anchored it in the ground. Recognizing I had been slighted, I shrugged it off with a nevermind and drew my locker key, got my gear and started working. About a half-hour later, I began to notice some VERY toxic burning in my frontal lobes regarding the whole dilemma. They come in like thieves and take MY locker?! Strip me of congregational privileges with the fellowship of the department? They do all of this without saying so much as a word out of courtesy after two years service? I DON'T THINK SO.
When the 5:00 pm break bell sounded I immediately speed-walked to the machinists locker area. Earlier I noticed a 2-ton fork-truck parked there when I was gathering my things. Passing afoot oppositely by the machinists headed to break, one of them yelled
“Hey Clauss! Where ya going? It’s break time?“
“Forgot something in my locker!” I replied.
“Hahahahahahaha,” they group-laughed.
By fate of vengeance when I climbed aboard the fork-truck one of the morons had left the keys inside. I turned the key on and gunned the long-forked beast into the entire row of lockers. What followed was a mighty and shrill scrape sound as I wedged the forks under the row of 15 lockers and tore them from the concrete. After a quick 360 survey of the area, I raised the row of 15 lockers 6-inches off the ground (as per OSHA safe fork trucking guidelines) and hauled the 30-foot wide load to the east wall of the plant. I returned the fork-truck to the machinists at 5:10, 5 minutes before any witnesses came back from break and got the hell out of there.
At 1:00 am that night I notified Randy/pig-boss that when I returned to my locker to put back my gear that the locker had been stolen a second time, so as to avoid any suspicion. He was in a baffled rage when came down to question me on the matter personally.
“WHERE ARE THEY!! Why would somebody move all those lockers and not tell anyone! This is pathetic!”
“I know what you mean Randy, it’s curious this is the second time today my locker is just gone. I’m a little confused.” I said.
“I WILL get to the bottom of this Kindergarten nonsense! If I find that YOU had anything to do with it Clauss, you can consider yourself suspended for 30 days without pay!” he said assuredly.
“I don’t know much Randy, but I know myself. And I can honestly tell you that there is no way I could move a 30 foot wide section of lockers. Unless I had a fork-truck (I scoffed to myself). I’ll check with the fellas, see if anyone saw anything or knows what happened and get back to you,” I volunteered.
“You do that.” Randy Pig-boss said.
To my knowledge nobody ever cracked the case of the missing lockers. Let’s say the guilty party has not yet felt compelled to come forward, and will not be compelled anytime soon. There were lots of VERY angry machinists. Everyone has been picking there suspect and sharing who they thought did it and why. I spun a brilliant web of cross alibis with different groups of people when questioned. Telling these guys I was with those guys and those guys I was with these guys. This went over famously. I also had to pick a guilty party to satisfy group discussion regarding the matter. I picked the craziest guy in the plant. Harold Cantone. A.K.A. ‘Crazy Harold.’ Harold has a record a mile long, and one night he was even hauled out of the factory in shackles. The story is that he told his supervisor that he was going to go out to his truck and get his shotgun to “blow your brains out.” The cops came to the factory and had to drag him out. He was screaming and resisting like a PCP addict.
“Let me go! I didn’t do nothin! Get offa me!” he wailed.
In his truck they found a 12-gauge Winchester pump and a box of shells. Slam dunk. After three months probation and some counseling he was hired back. He stays calm mostly, but now for some reason he’s stealing lockers? Harold is holding strong as everyone’s main suspect, looks like I got off Scott-Free again.