At Frito-Lay, when I worked there, potatoes are delivered by truck 24 hours a day, everyday. They are loaded into a bin where stalks,leaves, dirt, and the larger stones are filtered out. Then they are dumped onto a vibrating conveyor belt to shake off more stones and dirt, then sent into the factory proper where they are further cleaned and sorted by machines. At the mid-point of the conveyor belt, in a dark, cold, warehouse sits an old woman on a stool, in a sweater. Her job is to pluck whatever pebbles she spots and throw them into a bin. Her job is un-necessary and pointless, she and the company are just marking time until she retires or dies. To emphasize how pointless the job is none else does it when she is on break or on the second and third shifts. This is my vision of hell: a pointless, mundane, existence, going through the motions until you die.
Posted on: Sat, 15 Jun 2013 18:23:44 +0000