A Dirty Job

The call went out, and when someone like Ralph asks for help, the call gets answered. Ralph is the sort of guy who busts his ass 24/7 maintaining a beautiful home and thriving business, yet he is never too busy to help someone else. Whether it’s helping you have a good time at a party or helping you move a pool table, he is always there to lend a hand. So when the call came that he needed help consolidating his two buildings, Valley Electric Supply and Valley Lighting, under one roof, we all wanted to pitch in.

Problem is, none of us had a fucking clue what to do!

When we arrived, we found ourselves in one of those situations where there was SO much work to do, there was almost nothing to do. And with only a handful of people with an actual clue as to where things went, what they were, etc, the rest of us were left fighting over the one or two jobs that we could handle without screwing up too badly.

I successfully stole Robin’s job of shelving the “Arlington” products and spent the next two hours scouring the incoming pallets for the distinctive A logo. Once that was done, I enviously eyed Geof as he put up the drill bit display while trying to look busy breaking down whatever empty boxes I could find and dragging pallets back to the loading dock.

During one such trip, I was given a “real” job: organizing and stocking the warehouse’s light bulb and outdoor electrical supply section, and, regrettably, the ballast area - which, for the uninitiated, is some gravity defying heavy stuff. Imagine something the size of a box of Pop Tarts that weighs close to forty pounds. And that was the light stuff! No pun intended.

But, with MUCH assistance from Rusty, I somehow managed to do a halfway decent job, all while learning a thing or two about electrical equipment. I hadn’t asked so many “what’s this?” and “where’s this go?” questions since Father/Son Night in elementary school.

Speaking of sex, a large portion of the day was dedicated to goofing on all the sexually explicit names given to the mundane materials. We giggled like schoolgirls over things like butt splices and tool lube. We found hot dipped nipples and two-hole rigid straps incredibly amusing. There was a giant bulb that promised” high energy discharge” and a multi-gang box that sounded downright slutty.

Chances are, none of the items ended up in the proper spot, but we did manage to empty the old warehouse and fill the new one, so that’s a start. Right? I can only hope that what we accomplished was at least of some assistance to Ralph, for he greatly deserves it. But if not, he knows where to find me (unlike, say, the boxes of lugs that I stocked!)