ELECTRICAL SHOCK! PRESS! CRASH!

Today was a busy busy day at work.  We had a very important client, and a lot of work to do for him.  We took these HUGE rolls of plastic to our second largest machine.  Each roll had 2200 meters of plastic on it!  (Roughly 58 feet!)  We loaded them, one at a time, on one end of the machine, and then unwound them through the machine and wound them back up at the other end.  This time when we held our flashlights up and looked closely, we all oohed and ahhed and said things like "marvelous!" and "beautiful!", but when the client came in and looked at the same samples later, he drew some black circles in magic marker around what appeared to the naked eye to be some misplaced atoms.  He was afraid we'd have to scrap the whole lot, but after scrunching his forehead a lot and wiping sweat from his brow, he finally concluded that it would work itself out when we load the same rolls in our largest machine tomorrow.

While everyone was busy, I managed to snap a quick picture in the "Cameras Forbidden" zone.  I'm pretty sure this photo does not give away any of our "family secrets", unless they haven't told me yet that we construct torture devices, in which case I can't wait to be fully trained.  And call me crazy, but the guy who is getting his hands PRESS!ed and CRASH!ed has his hands on backwards and probably deserves to have them removed by a machine so they can be reattached on the correct arm.  Also, the yellow triangle with the lightning bolt makes sense, the yellow "no" circle with the hand makes sense, but can someone please explain the yellow triangle with just a hand in it?

At the end of each work day, when the client is about to leave, we stand outside next to the taxi, and as the client comes out of the office building we all bow a lot and say "thank you" and "we look forward to doing business with you again."  Today, between the time we went outside and the time the taxi showed up, the conversation ended up being about how much it hurts to get kicked in the B-A-Double-Hockeysticks-S.   This conversation seriously went on for 10-12 minutes, from describing the pain and how it spreads all through your stomach and sometimes even up into your neck to how if you got kicked hard enough they might come out of your eye sockets.

Finally, I left to go home.  I tried really hard to beat the sunset again, but much to my chagrin I realized I was not going to make it, so I stopped at the drugstore.  The cashiers are getting used to me there, or at least they seem friendlier now than when I first stopped there.  I try to be friendly but still not make too much conversation, because I'm always afraid I'm going to say the wrong thing like "this town grows a lot of cabbage" or "you sure are short."  At any rate, I was looking for cheese, because my grocery store fails to carry that necessity.  I finally found "Candy Type Cheese."  It looks good but it tastes about the same as Kraft American Cheese only blander and less cheese-textured.

I decided that if I can manage to make myself get up early enough, I'll try to take pictures of the nearby neighborhood in the morning.  I think the sun comes up well before I leave for work even though it sets before I get home.  Plus if I go really early, I might catch (no pun intended) some scruffy old fishermen to be in my photos.  I'll take my running shoes.