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[continued from yesterday's post; series started 10/20]
My new position was close to the fat table, but right between the gut table and the end of the head line, which was elevated above part of my station. It was there that the workers sliced off the lips, cheeks and cranial head meat, tossing them into hoppers, below which were boxes waiting to be filled. I was responsible for keeping those boxes in place under their respective hoppers, and weighing them to 80 pounds once filled. At the same time I monitored the volume of hearts and spleens coming from the gut table, weighing them also to 80 pounds. The boxes, once filled, were carried to a conveyor with rollers and fed through a window into the offal department, where they were strapped closed and placed into cold storage.
I like this job also, as it was much harder work and the scale, gut table and head line were all in different places, so got plenty of leg exercise moving between the three. After a couple of weeks I toned up even more and developed a rhythm that allowed for some down time, but not nearly as much as what I was getting at the fat table. Besides, the station was blocked in by the roller conveyors so I couldn't wander around as much as before, even if I had the time.
The boxes themselves were like the ones you buy at the office supply store - they came in flat sheets that were scored to make it easier to fold into the shapes to form the lids and bottoms. These were much heavier cardboard, however, and coated with wax on the interior sides for obvious reasons. Someone in the offal department above the station had the responsibility to assemble these boxes and drop them through the ceiling on a stainless steel chute. From there I was able to get the boxes that I needed, so long as the guy upstairs was doing his job.
Sometimes that didn't happen, however, and I'd have to fuss at the foreman in offal when the supply ran out. That didn't happen too many times before I decided to take matters into my own hands (literally) by making my own boxes. It wasn't difficult to get the guys in offal to just give me the flat sheets, as it lightened their load a bit, and for my part it filled in the down time once the rhythm was in place. Thus, it became my job to make the boxes in addition to collecting and weighing the meat. I grew to like it even more at that point because I didn't have a minute to spare, racing between the gut table, head meat hoppers and scale while keeping up with the box supply. It was a good day when all of the day's boxes were done by mid-shift.
I didn't stop at that, however. Once I got that routine down flat the challenge was gone, so when on the morning shift I made all of the boxes for the next shift as well. It was a proud day the first time all of A Shift's boxes were ready for the next guy (I was on B shift), and seeing his expression of surprise and appreciation. You'd think that he would reciprocate when it came time for B shift to rotate to afternoons, but he didn't so I only did that a few times.
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