Zero boxes at the zero hour.
They had eight production operators in Ford last night. I lost count of how many times I had to replenish red boxes. I had to make them just to give them up.
“You haven’t had time to rip any labels?” Asked one of my coworkers in disbelief.
“No,” I said. And it was true. I was nonstop. Request after request after request. Mostly from Ford.
Say what you will about third shift. But when this happens to me, and it’s not the first time, he comes in and quietly gets in the forklift, drops a bunch of red boxes, and we peel, sort, and stack until there’s a decent supply again. No questions asked. No judgement.
Second shift has been helpful, too; I’m not trying to say they haven’t been. But last night, at 9:45, when I was almost in tears, thinking I was never going home, it was third shift that came through.