The fact that I have my manual licence is something that I try to keep quiet at work. I've had my provisional licence for almost a year in that time I've driven a manual car, well, never. The minute I passed my test I decided I was only going to drive automatic cars. This is an oath that I've maintained- except for the odd occassion I've had to drive the work ute. The few times that this has occurred have all been traumatic experiences. Blurs of embarrassing stalls, clutch dumps and my inability to turn off its handbreak.
So when my manager came to ask me whether I'd take the rubbish to the compactor. I shuddered.
Me: Uhmm. Sure. You couldn't find anyone else?
Manger: *small smile* Sorry you're the only one I have. How confident are you about driving the ute? About 90 per cent?
Me: About 60?
Manager: *bigger smile* we'll say you're 75 per cent confident. I'll take over what you're doing. Me: *stifles a sigh. Begins to walk away*
Manager: Oh Rachael? I'm not saying that you will run out of petrol, but the empty light is on, so...
I retrieved the keys, a radio and the new girl to accompany me. The trip to the compactor went surprisingly well. I didn't stall once. I didn't run anyone over and I bonded with the new girl.
Every employee is compactor trained during their induction. We're shown how to afix a wheelie bin to the compactor and how to mechanically lift it to empty its contents. The truth is, however, that after being trained noone ever goes to the effort. Reality is that we completely skip the wheelie bin part and throw the garbage bags straight in.
This isn't usually a problem. Every time I've taken the rubbish I've had a man come with me. Men who were stronger then either me or new girl. Thus we were forced to use the wheelie bin manouever.
Between both of our limited knowledge we were able to attach the wheelie bin and use a big medal lever to pick it up. What we weren't able to do was convince the bin lid to open so that the rubbish would slide out. After five minutes of us readjusting the position of the bin, it still would not empty.
We were looking at each other in frustration.
New girl: Maybe you need to tip it up further?
Me: I'm worried about doing that though. I don't want to be the person who manages to drop the wheelie bin into the compactor.
My advice? In a situation such as this, never say something like that. Fate heard me and literally giggled in delight. A heartbeat after I spoke those words, sure enough
the bin tumbled straight into the compactor.
Rumour has it that the compactor was broken after that and had to be taken away.
I was convinced that I was going to get fired. I held my breath for three days afterwards, ducking behind walls or into coldrooms whenever I saw one of the girls from human resources.
On the third day, I was feeling a little more confident and confessed to a couple of my collegues what had happened. Almost all of the conversations followed the same general path.
Me: So, I broke the compactor.
Them: *laughs* I heard about that. Was that you? What'd you do?
Me: I dropped a wheelie bin it.
Them: Oh yeah? I've done that at least four times. Did you climb in after it?
Me: Did I climb into the compactor? What?! No?!
Them: Yeah, that's what I do. At least you'll know what to do next time.
Me: Next time?!
I've heard my fellow employees make many complaints about my employer. But you've really got to hand it to them, they sure are forgiving...
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