Quote:
Originally Posted by HHI944
I'm wearing a shirt that says
"What does not kill me better start farking running"
The bar cleared out when I got here.  |
You just showed up at the bar to early. Or perhaps just forgot to shower after the gym today?
When I worked at night in the machine shop there were a couple of huge guys, Andre the Giant huge. One loaded large machines all day long with 100 plus pound parts one handed that everyone else used a hoist. The other lifted 300 plus pound valves on and off the assembly line all day to group them together, again everyone else used hoists. They were as different as could be.
One was a very approachable big ol country boy that said he quit going to bars because about the time he started enjoying himself guys would try to pick a fight. Something about being the biggest guy in the bar. His claim to fame was he punched out a mean horse that bit him. After it woke up it followed him like a puppy dog.
The other looked biker mean and LOVED going to bars and getting into fights. Came to work one day after getting in a knife fight the night before. Had pretty deep slash the length of one forearm. It was held together in only a couple of places with bandaids and he still lifted heavy valves all day. Everyone at work was afraid of him. He would pull jokes on people to try to get a rise out of them and they would just take it.
Not long after I started working on the night shift with this huge joker he started pulling stuff on me. Asked my Dad about it. My dad also worked in the machine shop told me to stop that kind of horse play you had to get them back really good so they wouldn't want to start a horseplay war. Then proceeded to tell me about all the pranks that went on in the machine shop and what he did to keep the pranksters from bothering him.
After laughing off a couple more pranks I decided to pull one back. Snuck up behind him, hooked the hoist he never used to his belt and lifted him too high to reach the hoist controller before he realized what had happened. Then took some spray paint we use on the valves and painted him red all the time he was hanging there helplessly wriggling about swinging, kicking, screaming, and yelling at me.
Figured I was a dead man. But after someone else let him down he came over to my work station, still painted red, and told me good one, he liked me because I had the guts to stand up to him and return a prank, and if I ever needed some muscle to just holler. BUT, if I ever did anything like that to him again he would kill me. Never got pranked by him or anyone else in the shop again. Even though what I had done was legendary around the shop, my Dad never said a word to me about it. The night shift supervisor came up to me, stood there a couple of minutes with his hands on his hips, then just shook his head and walked away.
That was sure a different time back then. Today you would just get fired.