It
was Kilroy’s first day reporting to work and he was more than eager. As a
recent science graduate of a prestigious university he was in awesome spirits
having attained employment at a laboratory. The office handed him a key,
provided the lab room number and he was sent off to begin his work. He was
employed as the test tube cleaner! He was seeking more elevated permanent
employment than this, but it would do while that search continued. The lab room
was located and he confirmed the number match on the key. ‘This is it. I go,’
he played out in his head. The door opened, he stepped in.
‘Oh
shit,’ he said in his head, immediately regretful of the harsh tone in his
thoughts. This was a full-sized 2,000 sq. ft. laboratory stacked with innumerable
crates of test tubes. Well, sure, not exactly innumerable, but there were very
many, more than he had imagined possible awaiting his arrival. The chemical
odor from the dirty tubes was strong and the air still. The window blinds were in
disorder casting an irregular louvered effect on his vast uncleansed inventory with
the early morning light. The tables, desks, aisles and most surface area
contained bins and cases of spent tubes. Clearly these tubes had been waiting
months for him, or anyone, to clean them and release them back into
circulation. But holy cow, the mass quantities were difficult to accept.
Just
then a knock at the door! A greeting party? An introduction to the task at hand
and how best to proceed? With a hopeful stride he returned to the door and
opened with a smile.
“Hi, I’m a scientist in the lab next door. I
heard a test tube-cleaning monkey had been hired, looks like you’re it. I’ve
got this dolly full of dirty tubes for you. I know a few other labs have been
holding their dirties because this room has been full for a while. They’ll
probably bring them by soon. Thanks.” The scientist departed without
hesitation and took the dolly leaving the carts of tubes outside for Kilroy’s
manual effort. No introduction, no solicitation at all for the ‘monkey’s’
input. The final indignity had been delivered.
Kilroy
was a guy accustomed to getting things done, monkey or human. The load was
hauled in, he locked the door behind him, donned his gloves and goggles and got
started. Monkey, he thought to himself. The local lab boners had underestimated
this one and it fueled his rage. Two hours passed, it was nearing lunch with no
visible progress. Positive visual effects were still days away. Another knock
at the door, “Hey, I’ve got more test tubes
for you. I was told someone was here. Are you in there?” ‘Screw them,’
thought Kilroy, ‘this monkey’s busy right now.’ The knock at the door was
ignored.
Day
two, he arrived to two additional dirty test tube deliveries. Eight hours into
this job and he was deeper in the hole than if he had not started at all. The tubes
were hauled inside then he unpacked his backpack. A CD-player loaded with a compact
disc of Pink Floyd was turned on to lighten the mood and would be followed by
Rush, King Crimson or Blue Oyster Cult depending what was needed at the time. He
locked the door, again donned his Personal Protection Equipment and knuckled
down. Kilroy had things to do and they would get done.
At the end of day two the
number of cleans trickled in to fill several crates registering as the tiniest
of victories. He would win this battle, but wow, how long? And how tedious?
By
day three the cleaning protocol was in full swing. Dirty tubes were introduced
en masse to the presoak. While the new batch soaked the prior batch of tubes
were removed and forwarded to the test tube washing machine. Tubes in the next
phase progressed from the drying rack to the autoclave for sterilizing. Test
tube caps were cleaned, sterilized and dried, then matched with clean tubes.
These finished tubes were proudly packed in the crates and placed by the door
for pick up.
The
lab room and its related duties had been under Kilroy’s reign for two weeks now.
There had been no further ‘monkey’ references by the lab workers. They sensed
that this one was powerful, a catalyst. Crates of clean tubes had been rolling
out in impressive and efficient quantities. The quality was above reproach and
a corresponding respect had stirred in the air.
It took two months before the
inventory of dirty tube had been extinguished in their entirety. His work, this
miserable task, had concluded. The blinds were uniformly drawn closed, the
lights turned out and the door locked. A scientist looking through the window saw
Kilroy departing. “There he goes,” he
said to nobody in particular. Kilroy walked away in triumph continuing the
search for more meaningful employment. It would be found and they’d be lucky to
have him.
[Inspired by a job my brother had for a brief period of time many years
ago.]
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