There were many commercial jobs in high class buildings in the late 90's we would work on. Outside of Minneapolis, Edina was an older part of town, lots of money in the area.
We were working on the top floor in a premier building, no expense was spared on the buildout. The wood floor alone cost more than most tradesmen would make in 2 years wages. To add to the problems, it was an occupied building, with a tenant a floor below with only 18" of concrete separating the floors.
Construction wasn't the quietest of jobs, hammers would pound away, a chorus of screw guns in the background would be heard from 6-2. Wall framing included hammer drilling and firing pins into concrete, which was disturbing to the occupied space below. To keep progress going, all of the really noisy work was to be done before 8am, at times we would try to sneak a single pin or a hammer drilled hole in before the supervisor would catch us. After a while it was happening all the time, it turned into an odd cat and mouse game. One carpenter drilled a hole, heard the supervisor was around the corner, quickly handed the hammer drill off to the electrician and laughed as the supervisor chewed out the electrician, just because he was caught holding the hammer drill.
As the job wore on progress was slowed to a crawl, changes were made almost daily, one day we would build a wall, the next we tore it down, moved it 6" and rebuilt it. Tradesmen were tired of it, nothing is worse than redoing something, multiple times. Moving outlets 2" or light switches from one side of the room to the other, paint colors changed from white to off white to eggshell to flat then back to white. On top of it the supervisor was unbearable, demanding extra work be covered under the original bid price. All profit was eaten up, we were working just to break even. A day before the project was complete the supervisor laid into a carpenter for leaving a few wood shavings in the corner office after the final clean. The carpenter was already going to clean it up, and he did after he fitted the door, but he hatched a plan. Months of dealing with this supervisor had soured him to the point where he needed to get something out of the job, he was breaking even at this point, but he knew he couldn't leave without doing something.
Move in was the next day, the space was clean, the CEO was touring the space, proud of the empire he built. The job supervisor followed him as they walked the hallways, looking at the workmanship, feeling very satisfied with the project he completed. They came to the head office, where the CEO would spend the rest of his career overlooking the city of Edina, his camelot.
He slowly opened the door, and as it swung open it didn't seem ... Right. A horrible smell wafted in as the door swung open, followed by a trail of paper towels strewn from one side of the office to a corner, where the smell originated from. In the corner was a pile of shit, a sloppy streak smeared down the wall, and laid perfectly out like a coiled snake. If that wasn't enough it seemed like the person that made the mess used every last square of paper towels, and he could've used a few more.
That was the last project we saw that supervisor.
Sunday, December 14, 2014
Sunday, November 30, 2014
Alfred Ostrander III. "Bud"
Alfred Ostrander III was an interesting guy. He looked like he was in his 50's, weathered ruddy face, balding and was missing all but a few teeth. Alfred loved the simple things in life, like strippers, pizza and pot. There wasn't a day that went by that he didn't partake of at least one of those three things. Bud would show up on the job, sit down with a vial of "bud" at 530am and that was breakfast. Needless to say he wasn't a bad sheetrocker, he could keep up just fine despite being stoned and being 20 years older than most of the guys. Bud had a good heart, he would buy company sweatshirts and give them to the dancers at caseys. Well that was fine for a while, but when the owner of the company was in Florida and he noticed a girl that he never met wearing a sweatshirt with his company logo on it, bud wasn't allowed to buy them anymore after that.
He wasn't the best with his finances, it seemed like every month he was on the verge of losing his home. One week he came in all happy, he said he went to the casino, and watched the people playing one armed bandits. They pumped in money, would get frustrated then leave. He would sit down, put a few bucks in and sure enough he would hit a jackpot. He did that a few times until he had enough to pay his mortgage. Problem is that only worked the one time.
He would always drive junk cars and trucks, he had his tools stolen from his work truck, so he installed spring loaded hinges on the topper windows. They thieves came by opened the window only to have it slam back down as soon as the spring released. He didn't need to worry too long about that, the truck died and the next vehicle he drove was a handicapped bus. The "Bud bus" even had a ramp for a wheelchair, which he tried to sell to various tradesmen.
He came in with dentures after a few weeks of complaining about his teeth hurting. With the nice white teeth he didn't look like the same person. He looked normal, until a day later he dropped them and broke one of the front teeth. Alfred gave up on them after that.
He wasn't the best with his finances, it seemed like every month he was on the verge of losing his home. One week he came in all happy, he said he went to the casino, and watched the people playing one armed bandits. They pumped in money, would get frustrated then leave. He would sit down, put a few bucks in and sure enough he would hit a jackpot. He did that a few times until he had enough to pay his mortgage. Problem is that only worked the one time.
He would always drive junk cars and trucks, he had his tools stolen from his work truck, so he installed spring loaded hinges on the topper windows. They thieves came by opened the window only to have it slam back down as soon as the spring released. He didn't need to worry too long about that, the truck died and the next vehicle he drove was a handicapped bus. The "Bud bus" even had a ramp for a wheelchair, which he tried to sell to various tradesmen.
He came in with dentures after a few weeks of complaining about his teeth hurting. With the nice white teeth he didn't look like the same person. He looked normal, until a day later he dropped them and broke one of the front teeth. Alfred gave up on them after that.
Thursday, October 16, 2014
Bathroom remodel
Sometimes when your working in a warehouse you do desperate things when it's a huge open room with bathrooms few and far between. We were remodeling a restroom in an assembly warehouse, it seemed as big and wide as 3 football fields, and in the dead center of it all was the restrooms. Hundreds of workers at desks and tables, with a tiny 4 person bathroom for the women's, and the same for the men's, they desperately needed updating, no ADA, no urinals for men's, 1 sink and 1 paper towel dispenser. We went in and demoed, expanded, and added durarock to keep water from wicking up the walls. The old color scheme was 70's lime green and baby poop brown, classy just like the 70's. It took us 10 minutes to walk towards the area, so if any tools were left behind it was a trek to go get them. We brought carts and on a quiet day we stole a golf cart to help make transportation faster, which only happened once.
After we finished with the work one day we noticed a strange office chair sitting near the outside of the men's room, as the weeks went on we noticed the chair would move a little bit from behind the bathrooms then closer to the front door. We had to leave for a week while the other trades moved in, then we came back to install door hardware and closers. One of the guys brought everything he needed, except the ladder, so seeing the chair he grabbed it, wheeled it inside then stood on it to install a closer. He would periodically step on and off the chair to make adjustments and every time he did his shoes would squeak on the new vinyl flooring, and he didn't think anything of it. Making his last adjustment he got down, pulled the door open sat down, then watched it close at a nice even smooth speed.
As it closed his smile from a job well done slowly went away, and when the door latched he jumped out of the chair yelling various profanities. His jeans were soaked, and he smelled like a wet diaper. Evidently the "chair" wasn't used for sitting while the restrooms were being remodeled, it was used as a urinal by a mad employee, his jeans were a perfect sponge to soak up a month of urine.
After we finished with the work one day we noticed a strange office chair sitting near the outside of the men's room, as the weeks went on we noticed the chair would move a little bit from behind the bathrooms then closer to the front door. We had to leave for a week while the other trades moved in, then we came back to install door hardware and closers. One of the guys brought everything he needed, except the ladder, so seeing the chair he grabbed it, wheeled it inside then stood on it to install a closer. He would periodically step on and off the chair to make adjustments and every time he did his shoes would squeak on the new vinyl flooring, and he didn't think anything of it. Making his last adjustment he got down, pulled the door open sat down, then watched it close at a nice even smooth speed.
As it closed his smile from a job well done slowly went away, and when the door latched he jumped out of the chair yelling various profanities. His jeans were soaked, and he smelled like a wet diaper. Evidently the "chair" wasn't used for sitting while the restrooms were being remodeled, it was used as a urinal by a mad employee, his jeans were a perfect sponge to soak up a month of urine.
Psycho steve
It was another early morning, it gets so hard to go out and start the car, scrape the frost off the windshield and what long enough to go to work. The hardest part was knowing that in a matter of 8 hours it would need to be done again, and even worse is it will be dark before I am back home. Long commutes and redundancy really gets old this time of year. How many sheets of Sheetrock can a guy hang before he can't deal with it anymore. Screw guns running full blast all day long, screaming and clutch grinding non stop. To make matters worse it's even harder on the body, joints and muscles ache, skin covered in dust.
It takes a different kind of person to do this job, some guys have made poor choices, some get started and never find something else, some actually like it, and those are the ones that you watch out for.
Steve was a older guy, he spent most his life in Vegas, working on the casinos and hotels that millions of people would see and visit over the years. In a town like that where anything that happens stays in Vegas only the walls can tell the tales they see.
He seemed normal enough, avg height and build, smoked like most his age did, not married yet not available. He came to work one day missing his shoe, he said he was at the bar, and met a nice lady, they began talking when he told her he liked varicose veins and stretch marks, and legs. He though he was an artist I guess, he would take a sharpie marker and draw little homes,and roads. When he came to a vein he would draw a bridge so the car could cross the river. Evidently when he told this wonderful young lady his plans for later, she got a little upset. The ensuing commotion involved a bouncer that in turn called the cops who in turn chased him through downtown Minneapolis, only to lose him when he jumped a fence and ducked behind a dumpster.
He woke up early morning realizing he was missing more than his date from the previous night, somewhere along the way he lost a shoe. With no time to go home he went to the job site and put in a full day of work on one red wing and a very dirty sock.
We always thought it was strange how he loved oranges, he would easily eat 10-12 a day, and as the day went on he got dumber. It wasn't until we were cleaning up one of the guys noticed the smell, vodka. Inspecting the peels we noticed tiny holes, almost a pin prick in the skin. Steve was mainlining vodka into his oranges, and as the day went on he would get more and more hammered. Needless to say he wasn't on the job the next day.
It takes a different kind of person to do this job, some guys have made poor choices, some get started and never find something else, some actually like it, and those are the ones that you watch out for.
Steve was a older guy, he spent most his life in Vegas, working on the casinos and hotels that millions of people would see and visit over the years. In a town like that where anything that happens stays in Vegas only the walls can tell the tales they see.
He seemed normal enough, avg height and build, smoked like most his age did, not married yet not available. He came to work one day missing his shoe, he said he was at the bar, and met a nice lady, they began talking when he told her he liked varicose veins and stretch marks, and legs. He though he was an artist I guess, he would take a sharpie marker and draw little homes,and roads. When he came to a vein he would draw a bridge so the car could cross the river. Evidently when he told this wonderful young lady his plans for later, she got a little upset. The ensuing commotion involved a bouncer that in turn called the cops who in turn chased him through downtown Minneapolis, only to lose him when he jumped a fence and ducked behind a dumpster.
He woke up early morning realizing he was missing more than his date from the previous night, somewhere along the way he lost a shoe. With no time to go home he went to the job site and put in a full day of work on one red wing and a very dirty sock.
We always thought it was strange how he loved oranges, he would easily eat 10-12 a day, and as the day went on he got dumber. It wasn't until we were cleaning up one of the guys noticed the smell, vodka. Inspecting the peels we noticed tiny holes, almost a pin prick in the skin. Steve was mainlining vodka into his oranges, and as the day went on he would get more and more hammered. Needless to say he wasn't on the job the next day.
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