General Machine Shop

Leaving Military Service I found a job at a general machine shop. We were building a mimeograph machine for a trade show in Chicago. I hadn’t seen a mimeograph machine since I was in eighth grade.

It was an automatic one that would make copies without the chemical odor mimeographs are known for. It was a prototype. I had to fabricate many and various rollerbars, and gears for the machine.

I could do it in my sleep; I often did.

I could live my life asleep; I often do.

I had a routine.

My day would start around 7:00 AM. I had my alarm clocked rigged to my guitar amp.

It was a 150-Watt Fender Amp, it would kick off, and I would hit the snooze button.

7:10 The alarm would kick off, and I would hit the snooze button.

7:20 The alarm would kick off, and I would hit the snooze button.

7:30 The alarm would kick off, and I would hit the snooze button.

7:40 The alarm would kick off, and I would hit the snooze button.

7:45 I would look at the clock, scream, and grab whatever clothes I could find on, throw water on my face, slug some mouthwash, run out the door and try to start my truck.

7:50 The alarm would kick off, and play the rest of the day.

I drove an old Chevy pickup. It was a great vehicle, except in the winter, it didn’t have heat, and if ever the gas tank were below the halfway mark, it wouldn’t start without a jump. I would keep a fresh battery in the house, and in the cold mornings before work, I would jump it myself. Once the engine would start, I would throw battery and cables in the passenger seat, and rev off to my first stop, the town deli for breakfast. I would leave the engine running while I ran inside.

Breakfast usually consisted of a hard roll with butter and a regular coffee, (2 creams 2 sugars), $1.25.

I would be in the shop, by 8:25. I’d carry the battery inside and charge it in the back by the welding machine.

The shop was owned by Ralph. Ralph was a fighter pilot and Ace in the war. He kept clippings of his exploits over enemy fighters in Asia framed on the wall.

He had 9 Kills.

Ralph was a small, soft spoken guy, with a friendly smile, and cloudy mind. He drank a lot of coffee (creamed with Irish Cream liquor), and always had a cigarette hanging from his lips. I never heard him raise his voice.

Ralph was Divorced.

His wife could no longer take the beatings.

Gus, and Dexter were Ralph’s Journeyman machinists.

Gus was a part time pig farmer. He kept a Sty in his backyard. He had a small still in his shed. He never married. Gus made the best baloney in the county.

He made some good whiskey too.

Dexter had known Ralph since before war. He was Ralph’s plane mechanic in the war. Dexter was the first man Ralph hired when he opened the shop. Dexter got married to his high school sweetheart the day after Ralph hired him. Ralph was his best man. Dexter and Ralph would always stand next to each other, often chuckling, it was their intrigue, and it’s what kept them committed to each other professionally.

Dexter didn’t drink much, only at lunch.

Dexter’s wife wouldn’t’ let him drink at home, except on football Sunday, then she would let him have two beers.

She worried about his cholesterol, and blood pressure.

She still does.

At 8:30 we would pick up where we left off the day before.

Look at the blueprints; verify our lathe measurements were still within tolerance, and back to shaping rollers.

The shop smelt of burnt oil, and cigarettes.

At 10:00 o’clock we would all stop working, and Gus would hand out some cooked sausage, from a sow butchered in the past week or so. Dexter would start a fresh pot of Coffee, and Ralph would get the saltines from his cabinet. I was never expected to bring anything. I was the new guy from out of town. They all knew I wouldn’t be around that long.

At 10:15 we’d start back to work.

When I would finish a task, I would bring the completed rollers to Ralph, he would inspect them, and give me a new blue print of a different sized roller.

Each blueprint of a roller would specify how many would have to be made. And since we were the manufacturer of a prototype, we would double the number we made. To ensure spares if there were a problem. I would cut the metal to size, and shape each roller on the lathe.

We would work straight through until 12:30

For Lunch We would all jump into our trucks and head on down to the local bar. Order a shot of whiskey, and a mug of draft beer. Drop the shot glass into the mug and chug it down.

We would do it 3 times.

We would be back to work by 1:00

At 3:00 O’clock Ralph would walk to the refrigerator in the back and return with a bottle of schnapps, and 3 shot glasses. Dexter would make himself a cup of coffee.

We would finish up Ralph’s sausage, have a shot or 2 of schnapps, and back to work until 5:00.

Not every night was the same, sometimes I would stay in

Sometimes hit a nightclub, or maybe a bar.

Every night had one thing in common though.

I would never remember going to bed.

Only to start again as above.

I worked there for 3 months.

One day I decided to leave. I went to my bank, closed my account, and caught the first flight out of town. I didn’t even bring my amplifier.

I abandoned my truck at the airport’s long-term parking. I left the keys in the ignition, and battery in the passenger seat with instructions on how to start it in cold weather.

A month after I left, Ralph had a heart attack doing 77 mph behind the wheel of his car. He ran into oncoming traffic.

Although many were injured, Ralph was the only fatality.

He left the shop to Dexter.

Dexter sold the shop to Gus,

Dexter and his worrisome wife now live in Boca Raton Florida.

Soon after Dexter left, Gus was arrested and subsequently convicted of the murder of a 12 year old boy. When police searched his property, it was found that human flesh was an important ingredient to his famous baloney.

He is appealing his death sentence.

I returned back 4 years later.

From the outside it looked the same.

Inside was a different story.

It’s a real estate office now.

Those 3 months of drunken labor were gone. The place smelled of air freshener. There were flowerpots hanging from the ceiling.

Smoking was not allowed inside.

A receptionist with a permanent smile asked if I had an appointment.

I wanted to explain, that I had once worked there as a machinist. I wanted to explain, that I slept for 3 months turning out rollers, with drunken abandon there.

I could tell by that smile, that she wouldn’t understand.

I smiled back at her, turned around and left.

I don’t eat baloney anymore.