The morning crew

For some odd reason and by a stroke of luck mixed with managerial ass-kissing, I have the opportunity every week to work on the morning crew at my job. Starting around 4am we pull pallets of product off the trucks (the load) and into the store (receiving), sort the boxes of product onto carts organized by aisle ("breaking down"), cut open the boxes, and at the stroke of 6am, put the items on the shelf (stocking). It may sound tedious and it is very physical work that hurts your back and arms at the end of the day. But working with a fun and hard-working team makes the time pass. The job is fun, and this is why I love every opportunity I have to work with this crew.

The thing to get about the crew is that this is their career. These are not your typical clueless grocery store teenagers. The normal morning crew guys are all around fifty, and have been working in the store forever. Enter me, the bright-eyed and ambitious eighteen-year-old with an immaculate uniform who has been working in the store for six months. Sometimes I wonder if my placement here is part of a wicked social experiment, but when I was training with them the guys had nothing but positives to say about my work. So I really do belong here.

Reed is the 4am guy. He goes into the truck and pulls the pallets into the back room and starts breaking down the load and is the first morning crew person in the store. He is forty-three, but his tired face and almost complete-baldness, covered with a backwards-turned U.S. BEEF hat betray his actual age. Years of cigarette smoking and alcoholism have worn down his features and faded small tattoos on his arms offer glimpses into a past love. He used to be a union roofer, but after losing his license to a DUI and doing hard time for other things, he is now clean and providing insight into life to people like me.

Kevin shows up at 5am and helps break down the load. Kevin's worn-out name badge says "Serving you since 1975", a date presumably before even my dad began his grocery stocking days. He is sixty-five, tall and lean with blond hair and big glasses that make his eyes pop out to twice their actual size. Like a loyal dog, he does his job compliantly and without complaint or second-guessing management. He is a friendly man of few words, and his kind and proper instruction on how to lift, stock, and use my knife has probably already saved my back and spared my fingers of at least one box-opener slice.

Of particular interest to me is the fact that Kevin went to school to be an airplane mechanic and briefly worked as one.

Jake is the 6am guy. He used to be the 4am guy, which is incredibly physical work that involves throwing heavy boxes for an hour. His heart problems and consequent pacemaker now prevents him from doing that task. He is probably fifty years old, and grey-white hair emerges from his shaved head. He is a big guy with wide-set eyes. His hearing aids, knee pads, and work belt make appear to be more of a machine than a man. Jake always is current on the news, though his words are sometimes unintelligible.

Working with these guys have taught me a lot about hard work and life in general, specifically, how to keep plodding through life and through a career, however humble, after disappointment and failure. I enjoy every opportunity I have to work on the morning crew, not only because of the fun work but because I learn something new from each of my coworkers every day.