25 June 2011

Crazy Homeless Germaphobe

I am kind of a dork. It's really not a secret, and, if you don't know me personally, you have probably guessed as much by now judging by my blog entries. But I am about to take you even deeper into my nerdiness. Hold on.

At the ice-cream factory, there are actually two separate buildings, a large one and a small one. The larger building holds all but one production line. This lone production line is in the second, smaller building which is really only big enough to house that one line and the necessary mixture tanks, freezers, etc. Well, it just so happens that the sanitation crew I am on is assigned to clean this outcast production line.

Now, there are two ways to get to this separate building, one is by weaving through a series of rooms in the main factory (first via a production line, then a hallway which has been collecting random maintenance things, then the boiler room, then "the warm up" room for the freezer employees, then a cooled hallway which leads into our enormous storage freezer, then a loading/storage area) before finally leaving the building and then walking about ten feet to the second, much smaller building. The second way to get to the other building is by completely leaving the first and walking along one side of it, turning a corner, and then walking down another side of it.

On nicer days, I prefer to take the second, outside route. Not only does it provide me with exposure to pleasant weather, it also lets me pretend that I'm a spaceman.

Working in a factory, I am exposed to loud machines all day long. Thus, to protect my hearing, I wear earplugs. Wearing earplugs really lets you hear yourself inside of your own head, especially your breathing. But ESPECIALLY your own breathing when you make it a little louder and a little more labored than usual. You know, kind of like a scuba diver or an astronaut or Darth Vader.

So, while walking outside, dressed in all of my sanitation protective equipment (bump cap, yellow coveralls, plastic gloves, beard net, hair net, goggles, big rubber boots), I make breathing noises like a spaceman walking across a desolate alien planet. I even walk slower than usual so as to compliment the inner-cranium acoustics with movement similar to low-gravity movement--giving my illusion a double whammy.

Another worthy note : The factory where I work is actually situated between the downtown and a residential area. So, it's not completely unusual to see random people walking through the neighborhood across the street as you make your way to the second building (if you are using the outside route), and I am pretty sure there are a number of people who have heard me making space breathing noises while walking slowly. I sincerely hope that they do not realize that I am just a dork using his childish, overactive imagination. They may think I am having breathing difficulties. Or they may think I am a crazy homeless germaphobe. Hey, we might as well dream big. 

Daily Ice-Cream Intake
1/2 Gallon Hot Fudge Sundae Ice-Cream, 2 Ice-Cream Candy Bars, 1 Orange Sherbet Push-Ups

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