When I worked in a bakery I was on the ovens, one of which we called a "sweatbox" and that was a perfect description of what it was. In between the oven and the prover there must have been a two foot gap and that's where you worked twelve hour shifts, Sunday included. It was so hot we had to drink orange juice, the cheap diluting kind and salt tablets, but we had an excellent way to bugger up the works and get a few hours reprieve.
We would slightly offset the lids on the baking tins so that it would jam at the back of the oven! The result? Supervisors and managers flying around like headless chickens flapping like Fuck to get it going again. This was just one of our ways of getting back at the exploiting sods and have a break at the same time It was our way of raging against the "machine" and a bloody good laugh as well!
Comments
When I worked in a bakery I
When I worked in a bakery I was on the ovens, one of which we called a "sweatbox" and that was a perfect description of what it was. In between the oven and the prover there must have been a two foot gap and that's where you worked twelve hour shifts, Sunday included. It was so hot we had to drink orange juice, the cheap diluting kind and salt tablets, but we had an excellent way to bugger up the works and get a few hours reprieve.
We would slightly offset the lids on the baking tins so that it would jam at the back of the oven! The result? Supervisors and managers flying around like headless chickens flapping like Fuck to get it going again. This was just one of our ways of getting back at the exploiting sods and have a break at the same time It was our way of raging against the "machine" and a bloody good laugh as well!
Nice one!
Nice one!