When we lived in Chicago, my husband got a job interview at a place about 35 miles outside of Philadelphia, in a town called Hatfield. The company paid for a hotel for one night, so we decided to make a mini-vacation out of it, He would go to the interview, and afterward, we'd spend the day in Philly, stay over another night, then go home the next day. We were looking forward to it, because neither of us had ever been to Philadelphia.
I won't easily forget how perfect that day was. I think it was February or March, but the temperature there was about 65, and it was so sunny and clear. While my husband was at the interview, I drove around this town looking at potential apartments, proximity to grocery stores, that kind of thing.
While driving around, I was listening to the radio, and I kept hearing about this monstrosity of a snowstorm that was going to blanket the entirety of I-80, the most direct route back home. Now, in case you've never driven through Pennsylvania, it's fairly mountainous. Not as hilly as say, West Virginia, but there are some pretty good hills there. I didn't relish the thought of driving on that terrain in a snowstorm.*
My husband calls me after his interview, and when I get him, I tell him that we have a change in plans. We need to go check out of the hotel and skedaddle back to Chicago.
As we're driving home, my husband tells me all about the interview, and what the company does. To be honest, I don't remember the name of the company, but I probably wouldn't mention it even if I did. Here's why.
The conversation starts with telling me that he's not taking the job.
My husband works in the field of plastic injection molding. The places he's worked have made things ranging from airplane parts, to medical devices, to car fuses, to radiators, to plastic caps and garbage cans. This particular company where he interviewed made plastic cutlery. You know, the knives, forks, and spoons that you'd buy to throw away after you use them.
Anyway, he starts telling me how great the interview went, how they hired him on the spot, and they were about to negotiate money when they started touring the plant. As of this point, my husband hasn't accepted the position. He wants to see the plant, see the lunchroom and the bathrooms (because when he sees the bathrooms and lunchroom, it tells him what the company thinks of their employees) before he decides.
They start in the clean room. That room is making utensils for Wendy's. It's a sterile and clean environment. The employees wear suits and gloves, it's what you see when a company makes medical equipment. My husband is encouraged, or dare I say, Impressed. Then, they get to the rest of the plant. My husband couldn't believe it was the same company. He said that there was oil leaking from the machines, the utensils were falling on the floor, and the workers were just picking up the fallen plastic ware, and loading into boxes. Oil and all.
Thus began the era of not using plastic utensils in our house.
I saved all of my old flatware. Each time I bought a new set**, I put the old set in storage bags. When we'd have a party, I'd use the flatware, then just put it in the dishwasher afterward. Through the years, I've accumulated quite a bit.
Each Sunday, some friends come over to hang out for the afternoon. We have a few drinks, maybe a swim, we have good food and great laughs. Well, I've been buying plastic cutlery for a while. When I was grocery shopping last week, I went to grab a box of forks, and remembered the copious amounts of flatware I own. For this past Sunday, I grabbed some forks and spoons, washed them, and used them instead of the plastic stuff I usually buy. It was a little extra work washing the utensils because I no longer have a dishwasher, but we didn't have to worry about breaking forks and whatnot.
Yesterday, I went down to the basement, and brought all of it upstairs, including the serving utensils. I washed, dried and sorted all of it. There is a LOT of flatware there. I just gave away a service for 12 to a friend who got a new apartment, and I have a box of flatware in my buffet that came with my china. Those sets are not part of this story. One might say I have an attachment to buying flatware. Anyway, I was able to bring up, wash, dry, and sort all of the flatware in one day!! You might be thinking, “BFD. I do stuff like that all the time.” Trust me, it was a banner day. That task would normally be at least a two-day process. Maybe my normal is getting closer to yours. Maybe the stupid Copaxone is starting to work. Maybe I just had one good day and it was a fluke. Whatever the reason, I'm really, really happy.
If only I could use these spoons to replenish my spoons.
*We did run into the snowstorm, but not until we were well into Indiana, about 2-3 hours from home. It was just as bad as they said it was going to be. I was driving into white lasers, because by now it's dark.
**Apparently, I have a thing for flatware. After I own a set for a while, I begin to notice that it fits in my hand oddly, or creates a weird pressure, or I get tired of looking at the pattern.
So did you have to dig your car out of the snow with plastic spoons???
ReplyDelete** Kind of like how you are with shoes?
ReplyDeleteI didn't stay still long enough to get stuck in the snow :)
ReplyDeleteUSED to be with shoes. I probably have fewer than 20 pairs, which as you know, is quite a feat. HA, no pun intended.