Typical Day
The sun is just peeking over the horizon as consumer safety inspector Jack Williams drives to work. Thank goodness he's heading west or he would need those "As Seen on TV" sunglasses that look like you just had major eye surgery.
Bleary-eyed, Jack takes another swig of coffee and decides going into work early sure beats driving home this time of day. They have a saying around the plant—third shift is for the birds. Actually, since he's working in a poultry processing plant, all shifts are for the birds when you really think about it.
The quiet drive to work gives Jack time to go over his checklist of daily tasks in his head. Each duty of his routine is basically carved into stone and followed to the letter, every day. Cleanliness inspection—check. Equipment operations—check. Temperature controls—check.
The list goes on until Jack pulls into the parking lot at work, exactly fifteen minutes early. He likes to have that time to go over what happened on the previous shift with the overnight CSI. Sure, he could simply read the overnight report and skim the equipment check logs...but Jack is a professional and doesn't like to leave things to chance. No sir. He likes to talk to the overnight CSI and get the info straight from the chicken's beak, so to speak.
Jack parks his car and swipes his badge to open the plant door. He's pleased to smell bleach. Bleach means clean and clean is good when you work in food safety. The overnight manager is still on the floor, making sure the cleaning process is done completely. He waves as Jack heads across the raised walkway to clock-in and put on his protective gear. It's the quietest this place will be all day. Once the lines re-start, it's a whirring chop-o-palooza. The noise means business as usual. Just how Jack likes it.
Dressed in his suit of armor, Jack meets the overnight CSI about halfway down the raised walk. Mike, the new overnight guy, raises his face shield and grins at Jack. "Hey man, I don't know if you've heard, but we finally discovered why the chicken crossed the road. To get processed."
Jack manages not to roll his eyes and asks about the overnight operations.
"Everything went fine. We hit our goal number of birds processed and all the equipment, temperatures, and samples were A-okay. The only incident was a guy on the de-boning line. He slipped in something and fell. But, he wasn't hurt. It just winged him." Mike chuckles as he hands Jack the CSI clipboard and goes to dispose of his protective suit.
Jack finally gets to roll his eyes as he heads to the floor for his first inspection of the day. Check this. Check that. Check everything. In these moments Jack is a tenacious hunter, trained better than any Hunger Games Career Tribute. Bacteria, he thought, you can run, but you can't hide from me.
Once everything checks out, Jack gives the all-clear for everyone's day to begin. He secretly imagines himself dropping the checkered flag like at the races. Just like that, a fresh batch of poultry rolls by as workers in their protective gear reach gloved hands into the bin and begin sorting for whole fryers, cut parts, and de-boning. It's poultry in motion.
Thirty minutes into the washing and sorting process, it's time for the first sample. Even though things seem to be going well, Jack always feels a little nervous before the day's first sample. If it's good, it's good. If it's not, it's very bad. It means Jack missed something earlier, and he's just not that kind of guy. Fortunately the sample is good. Jack breathes a sigh of relief as the line continues.
Suddenly, he spots a steam cloud that is a little too wispy for his tastes. Good steam looks like cumulus clouds. Small steam clouds might mean there's a "cirrus" problem. Reaching for his trusty thermometer, Jack tests the cooking line. Temperature is a serious safety issue and he can't have under-cooked chicken going out to the grocery stores. Fortunately everything checks out okay. Jack breathes a sigh of relief and reminds himself: Less coffee equals less jumpy.
Lunchtime approaches and Jack gives notice for the line to prepare for a temporary halt. It's weekly maintenance check day, so everyone gets lunch break together. Outside in the courtyard, a couple of guys are grilling burgers and hot dogs for the weekly employee lunch. Jack walks over and asks if they've checked the inner temperature of the burgers to make sure they're cooked properly.
"Man, aren't you on break? Chill a minute. They're safe."
As he eats lunch, Jack can't help but wonder how the weekly maintenance check is going. He gives his crew a ten-minute warning before lunchtime ends and heads back inside to check on the weekly inspection. All is well. It's time to get the kill crew back on the job so the processors have something to process.
The afternoon is another series of routines. Washing. Sorting. Processing. Cleaning. Before he knows it, the evening crew starts to file in, ready to take over and let the first shift go home. Jack sees the evening CSI come in and wave as he starts down the raised walkway. Jack climbs the steps and waits to give him a report as his crew finishes cleaning. Ahhhh bleach—he loves the smell.
The evening CSI walks up. "Hey, how'd it go today?"
Jack gives him a thorough, but concise report. Jack is all business.
"Thanks for the play-by-play. But...I could've just read the logs and reports."