Holy f*ck, did I ever come close to dying yesterday. I am in no way, exaggerating. I could've died, or at the very least, been injured quite seriously. I still shudder to think that if I'd been (literally) two seconds earlier, my Thursday would've ended with a tremendous crash and a trip to the hospital...
I drive a fork lift for a living for a local farm implement manufacturer. I've been there for a little over a year now, most of which I've spent covering for people who were out on disability or vacation or whatever. A few months ago, those transient ways came to an end, when I was moved into the warehouse, where I'm now responsible for the loading and (mostly) unloading of tractor trailers full of stock and supplies. This is something that I've done for many years prior to coming to this company, and it's something I've always done well and with very little incident.
Yesterday began much like most. Trucks would arrive and I'd quickly unload them, usually running the large over-sized items, shipped to us by a variety of suppliers, out the door and onto the concrete pad or across the road. Wherever we can find room, a commodity we are quickly running out of.
In addition to those trucks, we also have a warehouse nearby, which houses most of the stock for manufacturing. We have trailers upon trailers arriving daily from the other warehouse, stocked to the teeth with replenishments for our shelves. On occasion we have overstocks which require to be sent back on the emptied trailer. This is a common practice, though not necessary everyday. Yesterday, happened to be one of those days, where shit needed to be sent back.
I drive a fork lift for a living for a local farm implement manufacturer. I've been there for a little over a year now, most of which I've spent covering for people who were out on disability or vacation or whatever. A few months ago, those transient ways came to an end, when I was moved into the warehouse, where I'm now responsible for the loading and (mostly) unloading of tractor trailers full of stock and supplies. This is something that I've done for many years prior to coming to this company, and it's something I've always done well and with very little incident.
Yesterday began much like most. Trucks would arrive and I'd quickly unload them, usually running the large over-sized items, shipped to us by a variety of suppliers, out the door and onto the concrete pad or across the road. Wherever we can find room, a commodity we are quickly running out of.
In addition to those trucks, we also have a warehouse nearby, which houses most of the stock for manufacturing. We have trailers upon trailers arriving daily from the other warehouse, stocked to the teeth with replenishments for our shelves. On occasion we have overstocks which require to be sent back on the emptied trailer. This is a common practice, though not necessary everyday. Yesterday, happened to be one of those days, where shit needed to be sent back.
I raced to unload this truck yesterday afternoon, as there was a violent storm occurring outside, and there was a waterfall between the trailer and the building, thus every time I entered the trailer and made my exit with heavy pallets on my forks, I'd be drenched by the cascading water. I was instructed by, not one, not two, but three different people, to place some nearby stock back onto the truck to be sent to the other warehouse. The last pallet of stock came off the truck just as a crash of thunder echoed overhead. It scared the bejesus outta me. The stock at hand, had to be delivered around the corner to the delivery lanes, where another forklift driver is responsible for delivering said stock to the various locations around the east and west plants. I was gone for maybe a minute. No more than two, as the route was congested with all sorts of machines designed for the delivery of manufactured parts and carts. It's much too complicated of subject matter to delve into at this time. Rest assured, there was heavy traffic.
As I rounded the corner, back to the loading bays, I was preparing to begin my loading of the now emptied trailer. Lone and behold, if the ramp wasn't already returned to it's upright position and the overhead door closed. "What the f*ck?!?" I wondered aloud. So I got off my lift, opened the overhead door once more and lowered the ramp that bridges the gap between the building and the trailers. I got back onto my lift and began to inch forward. It was just as my front wheels got to the edge of the plate, the trailer pulled away from the building and the ramp dropped violently, scaring the shit out of me in the process. "HOLY F*CK!!!" I cried out, as Kevin, the warehouse supervisor was returning from his trip outside.
I'd noticed Kevin walking away from the overhead door as I'd come around the corner moments earlier. It wasn't difficult to spot him, as he was wearing a brightly coloured orange raincoat. "Why is this door open again?" He asked quite sternly.
"Why was it closed, is a better question!!" I replied, "I could've been killed."
"When you're done emptying the trailer, you have to close the door and send C___ on his way." Kevin scolded.
"Which is what I would've done, had I been finished. But I wasn't! I have all this shit that they wanted me to put back on the truck to send back..!!" I replied.
"Well," he began, "I came over here and you weren't around and I walked into the trailer and came back and closed up everything. You were gone for too long!!!" He was acting like this was my fault, which was bullshit, and I told him so.
"Bullshit!!! I was gone for maybe a minute. I had to take the stuff to the delivery lanes. That does NOT take more than a minute."
He just stood there, looking at me with that stupid f*cking look in his head, a kind of nervous smile, and shrugged his shoulders.
"You could've killed me. I could've died." I told him from my forklift, which towered over him.
"Awe, you wouldn't have died," he guffawed and waving his hand.
As I rounded the corner, back to the loading bays, I was preparing to begin my loading of the now emptied trailer. Lone and behold, if the ramp wasn't already returned to it's upright position and the overhead door closed. "What the f*ck?!?" I wondered aloud. So I got off my lift, opened the overhead door once more and lowered the ramp that bridges the gap between the building and the trailers. I got back onto my lift and began to inch forward. It was just as my front wheels got to the edge of the plate, the trailer pulled away from the building and the ramp dropped violently, scaring the shit out of me in the process. "HOLY F*CK!!!" I cried out, as Kevin, the warehouse supervisor was returning from his trip outside.
I'd noticed Kevin walking away from the overhead door as I'd come around the corner moments earlier. It wasn't difficult to spot him, as he was wearing a brightly coloured orange raincoat. "Why is this door open again?" He asked quite sternly.
"Why was it closed, is a better question!!" I replied, "I could've been killed."
"When you're done emptying the trailer, you have to close the door and send C___ on his way." Kevin scolded.
"Which is what I would've done, had I been finished. But I wasn't! I have all this shit that they wanted me to put back on the truck to send back..!!" I replied.
"Well," he began, "I came over here and you weren't around and I walked into the trailer and came back and closed up everything. You were gone for too long!!!" He was acting like this was my fault, which was bullshit, and I told him so.
"Bullshit!!! I was gone for maybe a minute. I had to take the stuff to the delivery lanes. That does NOT take more than a minute."
He just stood there, looking at me with that stupid f*cking look in his head, a kind of nervous smile, and shrugged his shoulders.
"You could've killed me. I could've died." I told him from my forklift, which towered over him.
"Awe, you wouldn't have died," he guffawed and waving his hand.
For anyone who is unfamiliar with how the loading bay is designed on a building, it is essentially a descending ramp which tractor trailers are backed into and which should meet up with a large opening in the side of the building. The distance from the floor of the building to the bottom of the ramp is generally between 3 to 5 feet. To fall a distance of three to five feet, might result in some minor bruising or worse yet, broken bones. To fall that distance behind the wheel of a forklift, a machine that weighs, in some instances, twice that of a regular motor vehicle, is going to hurt a f*ck of a lot more than falling just by one's self.
"That's horse shit!!!" I said, "I'm serious, you could've killed me."
Seeing that I wasn't going to laugh it off like he was attempting to, he just stormed off.
What a f*cking idiot!!! Instead of clarifying with those of us who actually know what the f*ck is going on, he took the initiative to butt his nose in where it didn't f*cking belong.
"That's horse shit!!!" I said, "I'm serious, you could've killed me."
Seeing that I wasn't going to laugh it off like he was attempting to, he just stormed off.
What a f*cking idiot!!! Instead of clarifying with those of us who actually know what the f*ck is going on, he took the initiative to butt his nose in where it didn't f*cking belong.
Today, was uneventful. Kevin stayed out of the warehouse for most of the day, and when he did happen by, he'd make jokes, trying to get back on my good side. Too little, too late, Kev. Your stupidity and ignorance almost got me injured or worse. You can make all the jokes in the world, it's not going to change my mind on the fact that YOU, Kevin, are an idiot!!
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