Share DETAILS—possibly in bullet-point form—five things-you-know about a particular type of workplace. One, at least, should be surprising! More description of this in the July 1 newsletter.
1970's kitchen at a Methodist summer camp (Worked there two summers)
- Washing pots and pans in industrial sink with a high window that allowed me to watch people's feet as they walked past the basement kitchen and dining hall.
- Assistant cook sang hymns while she worked, and when we served chicken, she collected all the chicken fat to take home. She told us she used it instead of shortening in her baking.
- Evelyn and I made pancakes on a griddle placed over the gas burners once a week, and every week Evelyn went home with welts on her stomach where her girdle melted while working at the stove.
- Flirting with the food delivery driver who sometimes pretended to lock me in the walk-in freezer.
- The menu never changed, week to week. Wednesday dinner - breaded and baked chicken, Friday dinner - fish sticks.
A typewriter and tethered phone on every desk. Cigarettes and whisky in almost every drawer. The noise of the phones, the clacking of typewriter keystrokes on multiple machines, the tinkle of bells at the end of a line of type. The smell of mostly male bodies, cigarettes, pencils, and paper; the heady feeling we were doing something important.
My typewriter was special: large bullet type — maybe 30 point font, before anyone ever talked about fonts— a now ancient machine used for intros and extros that fed the paper (joined by tape) into the teleprompter. When I was angry or stressed pounding the keys hard, was soothing. Joy was the introduction of an electric, Selectric that could correct almost a whole prior sentence and made Whiteout almost obsolete.
Jul 2, 2023·edited Jul 2, 2023Liked by Alison Acheson
Cleaning resort cabins
-Hoping all the guests check out early-maybe even the night before- so that you can get as many cabins as possible turned over before the heat of the summer day peaks in the afternoon.
-Having a conversation with your boss while your head is literally in a toilet bowl (as you scrub it.)
-Impromptu ice cream sandwich breaks when the guests forgot to empty the freezer before leaving.
-Many smokers can clean all day without a lunch break, but regular smoke breaks are non-negotiable.
-The satisfaction of leaving a cabin not only clean, but “pretty.” (Blanket artistically draped over the back of the couch, measuring spoons arranged according to size in the kitchen drawer, the loose end of the toilet paper roll folded into a little point, etc.) Wondering whether the next guests will even notice these things.
Steel Mill
- Baghouse
- Melt shop
- Nail mill
- Salt tablets
- Anchor Flange steel toe boots
- knives
- fire
- boiling water
- hot oil
- singing
1970's kitchen at a Methodist summer camp (Worked there two summers)
- Washing pots and pans in industrial sink with a high window that allowed me to watch people's feet as they walked past the basement kitchen and dining hall.
- Assistant cook sang hymns while she worked, and when we served chicken, she collected all the chicken fat to take home. She told us she used it instead of shortening in her baking.
- Evelyn and I made pancakes on a griddle placed over the gas burners once a week, and every week Evelyn went home with welts on her stomach where her girdle melted while working at the stove.
- Flirting with the food delivery driver who sometimes pretended to lock me in the walk-in freezer.
- The menu never changed, week to week. Wednesday dinner - breaded and baked chicken, Friday dinner - fish sticks.
Creative
Worktables
Messy
Happy
Pie
A typewriter and tethered phone on every desk. Cigarettes and whisky in almost every drawer. The noise of the phones, the clacking of typewriter keystrokes on multiple machines, the tinkle of bells at the end of a line of type. The smell of mostly male bodies, cigarettes, pencils, and paper; the heady feeling we were doing something important.
My typewriter was special: large bullet type — maybe 30 point font, before anyone ever talked about fonts— a now ancient machine used for intros and extros that fed the paper (joined by tape) into the teleprompter. When I was angry or stressed pounding the keys hard, was soothing. Joy was the introduction of an electric, Selectric that could correct almost a whole prior sentence and made Whiteout almost obsolete.
Autopilot
Computer
Nuts
Unheard gossip, heard
Emergency, not an emergency
Cleaning resort cabins
-Hoping all the guests check out early-maybe even the night before- so that you can get as many cabins as possible turned over before the heat of the summer day peaks in the afternoon.
-Having a conversation with your boss while your head is literally in a toilet bowl (as you scrub it.)
-Impromptu ice cream sandwich breaks when the guests forgot to empty the freezer before leaving.
-Many smokers can clean all day without a lunch break, but regular smoke breaks are non-negotiable.
-The satisfaction of leaving a cabin not only clean, but “pretty.” (Blanket artistically draped over the back of the couch, measuring spoons arranged according to size in the kitchen drawer, the loose end of the toilet paper roll folded into a little point, etc.) Wondering whether the next guests will even notice these things.
Local chapter of a national non-profit
* Four women
* Meaningful work, poor pay
* Electric typewriters
* Push-button phones, with shoulder pillows
* New Yorker cartoons
* Alcohol in the director's Solo cup
* A secretary who thought I was too young to wear black