Second date

After New Year's turned into such a nice surprise, for a few weeks Bud and I only saw each other at work, where we were obviously more friendly.  The owners of the management group to whom I reported (and who were conveniently located in Atlanta, GA) had a strict no fraternization policy.  I also have never been in favor of mixing work and play, so it has always been incredibly important to me to maintain a distinct separation between my professional life and my personal life.  However, the guys who owned the management group took their policy beyond anything even approaching reason.  They had taken Tim and Frank and me from our home environments (Frank and I were from Atlanta, GA and Tim was from High Point, NC) and moved us to this God forsaken little burg (Fallston) just north of Baltimore where we had no friends and, in Tim's case and mine, no family.  Frank was married and had brought his wife, but their marriage was disintegrating so he was probably even more lonely than Tim and I.  The three of us were 29 or 30 years old, and we spent 14 to 16 hours each workday and often on weekends toiling closely together under extremely stressful conditions.  Our managers prohibited us from developing friendships among ourselves.  They even went so far as to make certain none of us lived in the same apartment complex.  This, of course, was not only absurd, but it was impossible to control.  Take three isolated,  lonely, smart, young adults and throw them together in Hell and see if they don't band together.  What a joke.  Frank, Tim and I became fast friends and remained so until Frank's untimely death several years ago.  Tim and I added Bud to our little circle of misfits and picked up a few more questionable lunatics along the way.  I actually tried dating both Tim and Frank (after his marriage ended), but it was so obvious romance was not on the menu.  We were intense friends and would remain so, but amore was reserved for others.


After a few weeks, I conjured up an excuse to see Bud socially again.  It was starting to become obvious he was not gonna make that important first move, so I threw caution to the wind and asked his help in moving a typewriter from my office to my home.  I suppose I could have managed the move myself, or ask Frank or Tim to help, but that wasn't quite what I had in mind.  It was one of those old IBM Selectric typewriters that was the size of a large microwave (which were, incidentally, barely beginning to come into common everyday use at the time) and weighed around 50 pounds.  I just figured a nice, strong, young man like Bud Masek would be extremely helpful in toting that thing home for me.  After the typewriter was moved, I offered to take Bud out to the Pizza Inn (or Hut, who can remember this crap) as payment for his assistance.  We had pizza and beaucoup pitchers of beer while we talked and laughed and learned more about each other.  I invited him back to my apartment and things became a great deal more personal between us.


Somehow, we just slid into a relationship from there.  The next time he showed up at my front door, which I believe may have been the very next day, he was carrying a brand new Mr. Coffee machine.  He said if he was going to be spending any time at my place, he was going to have decent coffee.  Up to that point, I only had instant.  I hate instant coffee, but I was not about to buy a coffee pot and make a whole pot of coffee for myself in the morning when I would be leaving for work almost immediately.  So I would get up each morning, make a cup of disgusting instant coffee to get me through the routine of showering and dressing, then dash out the door to work.  Immediately upon arriving, I would start a gigantic pot of brewed coffee, which I and the office staff would empty and refill constantly throughout the day.  Since it was usually quite late when I finally got home each night, coffee was the last thing on my mind.  Remember this was 1978.  Only the extraordinary coffee makers had timers and presets and automatic shutoffs.   I don't think anyone offered single cup capability.  Most people were still using percolators as the Mr. Coffee had only been available for six years.   But, Bud had his decent coffee, and he started spending time at my apartment -- a lot of time.  I would like to point out that just one of the thousands of ways Bud changed my life is that I have NEVER had another cup of instant coffee.


I usually was the first of the office personnel to arrive each morning, but the factory had almost always started the production day before my arrival.  It was common, after the factory shut down for the day, to find Frank and Tim and me out on the production floor cutting wood, sanding, building, or installing movements for the clocks.  I was painfully aware of every aspect of clock building and knew what was normal procedure for each of the departments along the production line.  By this time, Bud had been unofficially promoted to supervisor of the upfit and movement installation departments where the grandfather clocks were readied for final inspection prior to packaging.


One morning I arrived about 7:15 AM.  The factory had been operating since 6:30 AM.  When I pulled into my normal parking spot I took note of the fact that Bud's precious Malibu was in his normal spot.  However, before I had even gotten the first pot of coffee started, the phone rang.  It was the Fallston hospital, which fortunately was within walking distance of our factory.  The emergency room nurse explained they had a patient named Charles Masek there and wanted to verify his employment and that this was a work related injury.  I am not the hysterical type, but I have to admit the bottom dropped out of my stomach.  I confirmed that Charles worked for us and asked for additional information regarding the injury before I could confirm that it was work related.  She explained he had been brought in around 6:45 AM with an injury to his (I believe) left foot in which it appeared they were going to have to amputate his big toe.  By the way, this was a long time before HIPAA and you could find out almost anything you wanted about anyone from hospitals.  And in another one of my famous asides, I had once upon a time been engaged to a young man who had amputated the big toe on his right foot while operating a manure spreader (don't ask me, I only know that's what he told me).  The major components in your balance system are your big toes and your inner ear (about which, unfortunately, I now know entirely too much).  He had to learn to walk from the beginning again.  Back to Bud -- I told the nurse I would go into the plant and find out what happened and give her a call back.  I found Eddie almost immediately.  Aside from being one of Bud's closest friends, he was also a busybody and nothing went on that he didn't know about.  He told me they had been unloading  a shipment of lead clock weights and had stacked the weights on a shop cart to be moved to the stock area.  The cart was holding about a ton and a half of weight and as it was being pushed from behind, Bud was guiding it from the front.  The cart hit a bump in the floor and the front wheel rolled across Bud's toes.  He was wearing sneakers.  It was a bloody mess.  The production manager had rushed Bud to the hospital and that's all Eddie knew.  I went back to my office and returned the call to the emergency room nurse to verify it was a work related accident and whatever treatment was required was covered by our Worker's Compensation insurance.  I asked her to call me once they had determined the extent of damage and what steps were to be taken in repairing the damage.  Then I finished making the coffee and sat in my office and worried.  Damn him!  He wasn't supposed to intrude on my work persona, and he damn sure wasn't supposed to get himself injured so I'd worry about him.   Frank and Tim both knew I was seeing Bud socially.  They both knew it was a no-no but couldn't have cared less.  As a matter of fact, Tim was dating one of the young women who worked in the factory so he was just as blatantly ignoring the fraternization rule as I was.  So when they came in and I told them what had happened they gave me a whole lot of breathing room.  The nurse never called back, but about two hours later Bud showed up back at work.  His toe was still attached, but sporting a huge bandage.  He had crutches and a wheelchair and was told to stay off his feet for the next four weeks.  Ha!  They should have known better when he refused the pain medication they offered.


Tomorrow (or whenever, since it is clouding up and supposed to snow tonight) I will continue with Olympic wheelchair races in a busy production facility.