Potent logo

Working day

by JR Stine 4 months ago in humor · updated 4 months ago
Report Story

First day working at weed packaging warehouse

Working day
Photo by Jeff W on Unsplash

Today was the first day of my new job as a joint packer. This is my story (the Law & Order intro sound effects play in the background.) no names have been mentioned due to privacy concerns. Please enjoy this peek into my journey as I enter into the new and bustling industry of cannabis.

Although work for me started at 8:30am I awoke at 1:30am to soothe a distraught baby. She was my daughter of course not some randos baby, so I felt obliged to not ring her neck Simpsons style though the thought did cross my mind…

Luckily I have eighteen months of baby lulling experience with a 91.29% success rate allowing me to complete my task within 20-25 minutes well before dawn reared it’s ugly head. My thoughts were smug and pompous as I closed my eyes, my last visage of the world my wife shooting daggers at me with her eyes (she had been unable to quell our spawn for an hour before I tried my hand at the oneirogen arts.) and wondering if (not for the first) I’ll live to hear my alarm go off in a few hours. I think about staying up to gloat but realize what that does for my chances of survival and think better of it.

An hour before my alarm goes off my wife wakes me, tears in her eyes complaining of an earache. I suggest going to the hospital but she refuses, instead opting to try several household remedies until one (or a combination of) relieves the pain. I begrudgingly stomp to the shower, my wife is nice enough to make me lunch and a hot cocoa while I clean myself. Part of me wants to just stand there until the hot water runs out but I know that I will most likely be taking a badge picture today so basic hygiene wins out today. I can’t help but wonder if the earache is a symptom of stress at me starting a new job today. I feel guilty at the thought but remind myself that their is nothing I can do about her emotions and perform my 3,3,3 exercise like I have been practicing with my therapist. Me and my wife chat while I get on my clothes and brush my teeth though I honestly can’t remember any of it though I remember enjoying it and feeling better on my drive to work.

I drive mechanically to my job for the first time anxiously checking my gps directions ever couple of seconds, nervous that I might miss or take a wrong turn ending up in a cursed forest, haunted castle, or even worse, be late.

My diligence is rewarded by arriving a few minutes early… too find that there was a problem at the entrance this morning so I am rewarded with the privilege of waiting in a long queue to make sure a record exists of my presence (also know as clocking in) so that future generations will know I was their and I did my duty without hesitation, with stead fast determination and perseverance, also, so you know… payroll knows how much to pay me, but mostly for the other stuff!

My first task of the day is paperwork. Lots of paperwork, nothing too crazy (actually nothing crazy at all to be exact), just your standard employee handbook, full of guidelines on harassment and attendance (I do chuckle at the fact that 4/20 is a holiday though) and all those fun things us worker bees have to in mind everyday. After that I got to complete tax and direct deposit forms with a side of emergency contact information. I keep my eyes peeled for any kind of human centipede claus always diligent. Never forgetting the lessons learned from that one South Park episode (the one were Kyle doesn’t read the iTunes agreement and… you know) but am relieved to see no such deception. So far so good…

After a brief chat and a final signing of documents I am brought into… I don’t actually remember what the room is called but it’s the place where all the joints are rolled and packaged. Never before has the smell of marijuana been so inundating, I could taste it in my mouth, see it floating in the air covering everything in a fine layer of viridescent film. I have come to the Emerald City at last.

I am handed off to an older man who trains me on how to apply labels to joints sealed in individual plastic black tubes. I hate to admit it but I am surprised to see someone older working in a weed factory but immediately chastise myself for the ageist sintoment, I think back to my grandmother and the stories of her hippie days and say to myself if her than why not him? (For even though I consider him older I know that he would be young compared to her.) My mental flogging makes it hard to find a rhythm for applying stickers, which I also find to be oddly challenging making me wonder how good my grade school teachers were. Public schools, always trying to teach us important things like science and critical thinking, when really it turns out I’d just be putting stickers on plastic tubes so suck it Ms. Mills!

Our first 15 minute break is called while I day dream of revenge on my grade school teachers pleasantly surprised to see a small pile of presentable stickers tubes ready to be purchased and consumed. I venture outside finding the brisk cool air refreshing and a great place to stretch my legs. I eat a banana while I’m out there. I decide to poke around the building not really sure of how the social structure works at this particular workplace so wanting to stay busy. This keeps me occupied until break is over.

Once inside I meet a man I am informed will be my actual boss and that the man who’d trained me was simply covering for my true master, who couldn’t be there because he had a dentist appointment. They informs me my work is satisfactory and he introduces himself (a very pleasant fellow I might add) chatting a bit with me as he observes my work. As I continue my laborious task of plastering the pristine plastic fuligin shells encasing the prepped reefer with the imperatively essential indispensable label containing everything and anything a consumer may want to know about their weed, yet recognizing the futility of my actions burdened by the knowledge that the majority of our consumers will not even look at the labels. I do my best to keep my chin up knowing this somber truth. Than it’s lunch time.

My boss tries to engage me in conversation but I duck out to my car content to spend the next 30 minutes of my life eating a rather enjoyable P&J sandwich complimented by almonds and cookies topped off with some KoMbUcHa. I try listening to an audio book but find myself to tired to render the words I’m hearing in my head. Opting instead to listen to the sounds of nature once more. One of the beauties of living in the Pacific Northwest is the sheer abundance of nature I just didn’t get to experience growing up in LA. It is nice and pieceful though (as usual) too short.

After lunch we spend a bit more time working on applying labels before a more thorough tour of the building is given and I now could build a 3-D model to be used in a modern day capper film.

Than it is time to do what I was brought here for, the thing I have been mentally preparing for since being hired, the thing I usually convince others to do for me because I’m actually super lazy, rolling joints. Well actually not rolling them yet Per se, first have us going through and quality checking all the ones there fancy machine rolled up. Keeping th beautiful ones as is, Saving those that can be saved, transplanting those whose sides have been pierced, and cannablising those that don’t fall easily into either previously mentioned category or would be too much work to otherwise redeem.

This turns out to not be were my skills shine the dimmest, while I seem to be decent at packing the proper amount of weed into each joint, and have no problem packing them so they will remain sturdy for our users, I struggle to make them the proper length. Fortunently my immediate supervisor is a nice guy and willing to work with me, I hope he sees that I am tried my damdest even though it must have been frustrating to repeat the same steps over and over again. I do my best to accept his tutelage with grace and dignity, trying my damndest to remember he’s not their to chastise me but to get me up to par with everyone else. I appreciate his attention to detail and hope that in the long run it will make me more a better employee and that I will soon be over the learning curve. Still it sucks when things aren’t easy for you, like really fucking sucks.

At my last 15 minute interval between work periods I read my latest book, it is a struggle to focus but once captured by the prose my brain is able to relax and tune out the drudgery of reality.

Slightly recharged (if not rejuvenated) I return to the fixing of joints. I improve as the day goes on, refining my technique and figuring out a system that manages my workload more effectively. This last interval of work proceedes quicker than the rest and because I started at the end of the week we stop earlier than we’d normally do to take part in what I am lead to believe is a hebdomadal cleaning ritual. I am relegated to emptying trash cans and crushing boxes for my part in the ritual. This task is completed in the company of some of the most jovial people I have ever worked with easing this task until I feel myself standing over a precipice looking down at the ever allusive ‘friendly work environment,’ something we have all been told about since childhood but most never find.

Once all the unnecessary debris is discarded it is time to leave. Before I depart however, I am given a bag containing samples and free gifts, all for basically showing up for my first day. A truly good end to what hopefully is the beginning of something vivacious.


About the author

JR Stine

Just your average stay at home dad luckily enough to have a beautiful daughter and a wife who supports her husbands creative inclinations.Hoping to write regularly so come back often if you like what you read, or just because your lonely.

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights


There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2022 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.