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So, I have started working my wonderful job with the state's transportation department again. It's great, 40hrs a week with well over minium wage salary and even retirement plan (which we can cash out when the summers over with, if we so choose.) We don't get paid vacations or anything, but that's still pretty damn good for a summer job for college kids. Anywho, I've been put into a different divsion this year, which is the county garage. Our job usually consists of mowing, litter patrol/clean-up and weed whacking, which is where we get the nickname "weed eaters". Now, technically, we don't have customers, but the people we deal with suck, so I consider them SCs and some even EWs. Today was only my first day back and already, they come for me.
People=Target practice
While on the side of the road, with weed-whacker in hand (and attached), sweat pouring down my face, several cars whiz past at frightening speeds and try to hit us with garbage, i.e pop bottles, food bags, etc. This is not only dangerous, but illegal. Littering is a $500 fine at the least. Guess who was able to get a few license plates down before the car zoomed away? My lovely and awesome sup, M.
"You stupid kids, get off my----er, their lawn!"
Some of the local highways run pretty close to houses out in the country. Yes, that is your property, but if there is a guardrail that goes through a VERY SMALL part of it, it is technically the property of the state.
We got about halfway done with a long stretch of rails when we heard yelling. Thinkng it was our sup asking for help or demanding we take a break again (hotter than hell out and us college kids wanting to make money and not be bored, we won't take a break untill we're told), so we turn off our whackers and turn to where the truck was. It wasn't there, which isn't weird. Sups will occasinally go and scout out the next spot, leaving us to carry on with our jobs. In it's place is a very wet and pissed off looking woman, in a very small bikini with her hands on her hips. She looked to be about late 20's or early 30's. She starts yelling again, telling us to get off her lawn. We're next to a very busy highway, next to a guardrail that is about 60 or so yards from the front of a farm. Yes, she stormed all the way from the back of the house to the side of the highway in only her bikini and flip flops to yell at us.
CW: Ma'am, technically speaking, this is the state's property. It's at least 50 yards from the house and next to a MAJOR STATE HIGHWAY, thus it is not your lawn.
W: Well no, it's not my lawn. It's my brother's house, but that still doesn't give you the right--
CW: ma'am please, for your own safety, return to your....er his house, it is very dangerous out here and we can not be liable for anything that may happen to you.
W: No, I'm not leaving until you leave, bitch.
And she does. Hands on her hips, bikini and cat-butt face and all. On the side of the highway. In the middle of the afternoon. This woman is stupid. Me and my CW just kinda look at each, shrug, and start up our whackers again. We can't here exactly what she's saying, but we can tell she's screaming again. I am the closest to her so I shut my whacker off once again and walk right up to her. Compare: 5'2, blonde woman, doesn't look to be more than 115 lbs with a bikini and flip flops. Me- 5'6, little under 200lbs, with jeans, steel toed work boots and a very powerful weed whacker attached to my hip. I got into her face, sweat and body odor pouring off of me and say: ma'am you can either move, or you can get the whole front-lower half of your body whacked with the rest of the annoying organisms on the side of this road. Which is it gonna be?
She glares at me with the "I dare you" look until I start up the whacker in one pull and boost it up to full throttle. She screeches and turns tail and runs back to the house. Granted, it was a bit extreme, but we really don't want anyone to get hurt out there, that's our job. If she did get hurt, she could sue the whole state and we would be written up for multiple safety viloations, so whatever gets her damn skinny butt off the road.
Shoulder Work
We have big orange signs that say "Shoulder Work Ahead" to warn people that we are working. I swear to God, a guy pulls up to us, whackers in hand, and says: So what are your prices?
Us:
Excuse me?
G: How much for shoulder work, cause mine's been killing me and...
CW: Sir, that's just a warning to let you know that we're whacking weeds on the side of the road.
G: ..........oh, sorry. *drives off*
We both just kinda stood there for second thinking "Did that just actually happen?" Yes, yes it did.
That is all for now, but believe me there is about another 3 months more coming. Now to rest my aching arms and blistered feet and get the smell of stupid people out of my clothes.
People=Target practice
While on the side of the road, with weed-whacker in hand (and attached), sweat pouring down my face, several cars whiz past at frightening speeds and try to hit us with garbage, i.e pop bottles, food bags, etc. This is not only dangerous, but illegal. Littering is a $500 fine at the least. Guess who was able to get a few license plates down before the car zoomed away? My lovely and awesome sup, M.
"You stupid kids, get off my----er, their lawn!"
Some of the local highways run pretty close to houses out in the country. Yes, that is your property, but if there is a guardrail that goes through a VERY SMALL part of it, it is technically the property of the state.
We got about halfway done with a long stretch of rails when we heard yelling. Thinkng it was our sup asking for help or demanding we take a break again (hotter than hell out and us college kids wanting to make money and not be bored, we won't take a break untill we're told), so we turn off our whackers and turn to where the truck was. It wasn't there, which isn't weird. Sups will occasinally go and scout out the next spot, leaving us to carry on with our jobs. In it's place is a very wet and pissed off looking woman, in a very small bikini with her hands on her hips. She looked to be about late 20's or early 30's. She starts yelling again, telling us to get off her lawn. We're next to a very busy highway, next to a guardrail that is about 60 or so yards from the front of a farm. Yes, she stormed all the way from the back of the house to the side of the highway in only her bikini and flip flops to yell at us.
CW: Ma'am, technically speaking, this is the state's property. It's at least 50 yards from the house and next to a MAJOR STATE HIGHWAY, thus it is not your lawn.
W: Well no, it's not my lawn. It's my brother's house, but that still doesn't give you the right--
CW: ma'am please, for your own safety, return to your....er his house, it is very dangerous out here and we can not be liable for anything that may happen to you.
W: No, I'm not leaving until you leave, bitch.
And she does. Hands on her hips, bikini and cat-butt face and all. On the side of the highway. In the middle of the afternoon. This woman is stupid. Me and my CW just kinda look at each, shrug, and start up our whackers again. We can't here exactly what she's saying, but we can tell she's screaming again. I am the closest to her so I shut my whacker off once again and walk right up to her. Compare: 5'2, blonde woman, doesn't look to be more than 115 lbs with a bikini and flip flops. Me- 5'6, little under 200lbs, with jeans, steel toed work boots and a very powerful weed whacker attached to my hip. I got into her face, sweat and body odor pouring off of me and say: ma'am you can either move, or you can get the whole front-lower half of your body whacked with the rest of the annoying organisms on the side of this road. Which is it gonna be?
She glares at me with the "I dare you" look until I start up the whacker in one pull and boost it up to full throttle. She screeches and turns tail and runs back to the house. Granted, it was a bit extreme, but we really don't want anyone to get hurt out there, that's our job. If she did get hurt, she could sue the whole state and we would be written up for multiple safety viloations, so whatever gets her damn skinny butt off the road.
Shoulder Work
We have big orange signs that say "Shoulder Work Ahead" to warn people that we are working. I swear to God, a guy pulls up to us, whackers in hand, and says: So what are your prices?
Us:
Excuse me?G: How much for shoulder work, cause mine's been killing me and...
CW: Sir, that's just a warning to let you know that we're whacking weeds on the side of the road.
G: ..........oh, sorry. *drives off*
We both just kinda stood there for second thinking "Did that just actually happen?" Yes, yes it did.
That is all for now, but believe me there is about another 3 months more coming. Now to rest my aching arms and blistered feet and get the smell of stupid people out of my clothes.
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