Back in the days of the Continental Shift System, the company I was working for at the time introduced a 40 hour week.
After years of working a 42 hour week we all had an extra day off once a month. It wasn't easy to fit that in because the Plant had to be manned 24/7 so the Manager took it upon himself to allocate each of us one extra day off per four week of shifts.
One morning my Senior Operator, Brian was late for work and came scrambling into the Control Room at about 7.15am instead of 7.00am. He was out of breath, only half dressed (we used to call it "boot-laces at the trail") and full of apologies for being late.
I was fairly laid back because all I had to do was to point out that it was his turn to take the Day Off. "Oh ****!" he said. "What time do you think the florist opens in town?"
Why? Well, he'd woken up, saw that it was already 6.30am, leapt out of bed and shouted at his wife for not waking him up in time. Apparently, his wife knew immediately what was happening and told me later "After using that kind of language to me, there was no way I was going to tell him it was his Day Off!" so she let him carry on!
Having shouted at his wife, Brian had even more agony in store when he got downstairs and realised that "the bitch" hadn't even done his pack-up; so he shouted "Thanks for nothing!" up the stairs, threw four slices of bread and a packet of cheese slices into the plastic box she normally had filled for him and stormed out of the door.
His wife apparently turned over and went back to sleep. Brian hung around the Plant worrying until the florists opened and then crawled back into the house at about ten past nine, with bunch of flowers in hand, to try and patch things up!
His wife did forgive him; but only after making sure that everyone at the Plant knew what a total ****** he was!
BTW, for any of you lads who aren't yet married there's a moral to this tale and that can be summed up by a bit of advice I got before I was married. Mr. Kidder told me ...
When you get married, you will have the occasional row with the missus and when that happens you should look at a clock straight away. If it's before five o'clock carry on with the row, but if it's after five o'clock stop arguing and apologise. The reason for doing this is that later that night you will be looking at your wife's back and thinking "I wish I'd stopped rowing at five o'clock."
Mr. Kidder was not wrong!
After years of working a 42 hour week we all had an extra day off once a month. It wasn't easy to fit that in because the Plant had to be manned 24/7 so the Manager took it upon himself to allocate each of us one extra day off per four week of shifts.
One morning my Senior Operator, Brian was late for work and came scrambling into the Control Room at about 7.15am instead of 7.00am. He was out of breath, only half dressed (we used to call it "boot-laces at the trail") and full of apologies for being late.
I was fairly laid back because all I had to do was to point out that it was his turn to take the Day Off. "Oh ****!" he said. "What time do you think the florist opens in town?"
Why? Well, he'd woken up, saw that it was already 6.30am, leapt out of bed and shouted at his wife for not waking him up in time. Apparently, his wife knew immediately what was happening and told me later "After using that kind of language to me, there was no way I was going to tell him it was his Day Off!" so she let him carry on!
Having shouted at his wife, Brian had even more agony in store when he got downstairs and realised that "the bitch" hadn't even done his pack-up; so he shouted "Thanks for nothing!" up the stairs, threw four slices of bread and a packet of cheese slices into the plastic box she normally had filled for him and stormed out of the door.
His wife apparently turned over and went back to sleep. Brian hung around the Plant worrying until the florists opened and then crawled back into the house at about ten past nine, with bunch of flowers in hand, to try and patch things up!
His wife did forgive him; but only after making sure that everyone at the Plant knew what a total ****** he was!
BTW, for any of you lads who aren't yet married there's a moral to this tale and that can be summed up by a bit of advice I got before I was married. Mr. Kidder told me ...
When you get married, you will have the occasional row with the missus and when that happens you should look at a clock straight away. If it's before five o'clock carry on with the row, but if it's after five o'clock stop arguing and apologise. The reason for doing this is that later that night you will be looking at your wife's back and thinking "I wish I'd stopped rowing at five o'clock."
Mr. Kidder was not wrong!
