Actually my fork lift story did not start out well, was fun in the middle and ended two years later in a catastrophe. I hate to admit this but it is all sad but true.
I needed money and the warehouse was hiring fork lift drivers for the night shift. I found out it was a union job with great pay and benefits. So I applied and got the job. I might have made them think I actually knew how to drive one. Showed up on the night shift and was given a list of pallets to move from anywhere up to 4 big tiers high and move to the loading dock for AM loading. We are not talking about little propane lifts, we are talking about huge MFer fork lifts. Went right to the night foreman and confessed I had not only never driven one, but actually had never seen ones that big. Lucky for me he found that hilarious that the dumb management would send him a driver that did not know how to drive. Well, after a couple months I really got good. I mean really good, I would zip down the center while raising the forks, slam into a 4th tier storage area and slide the forks right under the pallet, tilt them back while backing up at full speed and lower them babies right before I came to the low center beam that held up the warehouse. They loved me cause with no management around, I started forklift olympics. This include racing and lots of crazy stuff. We also had these electric hand jacks. Well I figured out that if you put a pallet on the forks and turned the handle around backwards you could stand on the pallet and drive them around. So I organized slalom races. Lots of great stories. Then came the sad ending. As most know I do not hold my booze well and two beers makes me dizzy. Well one day everyone decided to celebrate a birthday so we snuck out of the warehouse and went to a place called the Sandman bar and grill in Bordentown NJ. I kept telling them I do not drink well but alas many many many beers later I returned to work.
Not a pretty story, but I had two tons of porcelain light fixtures from a top tier and heading down the center of the warehouse and forgot to lower the forks. Well I hit that beam so hard it turned the porcelain (the kind you screw a light bulb into in an unfinished room) into snow flakes. I just got down, took my time card and clocked out. Never went back.
See, I can also be a screw up.
I really have never told this story and will never again. But it may warn others away from the evils of drink
Chuck