Uniquely Jewish Adventures: Trapped in an Unlocked House

The young man

        Walked down the street Shobbos day to tour the new house his community friend had recently purchased. It was a cutely sized single story home with a well kept yard and a three car garage. The young man followed his friend as he keenly unlocked and opened the front door to show off his new abode-in-progress. As soon as the door opened the young man distinctly heard the “beep beep beep!” of the alarm system. “Oh that’s funny,” The young man pointed out humorously, “I guess it turns out you can’t open your own front on Shobbos.”

As he was speaking

The door

Shut

Trapped in an unlocked house

Go figure

            There was no sense panicking. After all there was still a tour to be had. Freaking out could be done after. The home was still a work in progress, the flooring, the bathrooms, the kitchen, etc were still having labor done on them, but it was clear that it would turn out to be a very comfy and warm home indeed.

Tour’s over

Now we can panic

            In hindsight perhaps the window would have been a better bet. They went over to the back door. Lo-and-behold no sooner than when the door was slightly ajar did the sharp “Beep beep beep!” of the system go off. As a kneejerk reaction the young man’s friend immediately slammed it back shut.

What, why…

You just had it open!

Aaaand now it’s shut again

            They continued to the side door. His friend tried it (opening it really fast this time, making the young man think of it all as a scene from Indiana Jones where they were trying to trip some sort of booby trap and soon a giant boulder would chase them out of the house). This time he didn’t slam it shut, but of course the alarm spouted its signature “Beep beep beep!”  However, since the young man’s friend was hard of hearing he did not catch it. Therefore, logically, it never really went off.

When a tree falls in the forest

And none are there to hear it

Does it make a sound?

NO

            

An Overnight Life: Life Overturned...Again

Continued from:

Unfortunate Run-in with the USDA

-----

    The Young man got home from Maariv and was ready to just relax when he got a phone call from the Israelis in charge upstairs. They wanted to see him. Ugh, how could they know about the USDA incident alread? The young man went upstairs. A hearty bowl of sweet potato chowder something was presented to him.

    "Ehh," he began, " How you feel like moving to Nebraska?" The young man's face went from a smile to blank, with his mouth slightly ajar. "Nebraska? Where?" "eeh Gibbon. Gibbon Nebraska."

What the hell is Gibbon?

     "Don't worry. It's very nice. I been there. You have eeeehh very good time."

Of course they say that

"So what you eh, think?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Well um, eh...no"

    That was the life so it turned out.Wherever he was needed, he went, be it Siberia or Antarctica....

-----

Gibbon NE

Population 1,8333

The freight train that passes through is longer than the town itself

...

Why can't there be a plant in Cancun 

An Overnight Life: An Unfortunate Run-in with the USDA

Continued From

NKs and the Deadly Evil Black Cows

-----

"We could get fired. Even for for this. The USDA has done it before."

-----

    It was just another day. This time double tasking. The young man was both doing hanging tenders (catching the kosher meat) all the while wearing an earpiece so he could run out and catch an unkosher cow. Already a grumpy USDA officer came into his station, ran his two fingers in disappointment across the lid of his barrel and then began picking at his frock because it was spattered in blood ( as if you didn't expect it!). True, he was dirtier than usual, because there was a new trainee, which meant the Mexican had to toss the meat over the new guy, often hitting the young man as a back board, but what gives?

    -----

    The young man finally finished his shift, and now it was time to put all the barrels into the compost, seal it, and have it sent off to be salted. His friend was also checking and marking the tongues for the same purpose. They decided to team up. They would both empty their barrels halfway, then pick up the entire barrel and dump it into the compost. Then they would have to catch a red helmeted worker (the rabbis weren't allowed to put in the dry ice themselves thanks to the USDA) to put in a layer of dry ice for each barrel. At one point the young man's friend's finger got caught between the barrel and wheel thingy. They got it unstuck. "It;s OK," his friend said :No injury here," The young man laughed, "Even if there was, we aint covered!"

    But then

    "What are you doing?" an officer asked, "You're picking up the barrels with the wheels and then touching the meat. You cant do that!" The officer had the red helmet guy spray something all over the meat. 

how did he see us?!

    The officer was clear across the room, but they always watch the rabbis...closely. They continued to do their work, when one one of the officers came and said he wanted to speak to the young man and his friend when they were done. They both left to get the proper labels to seal the compost. The young man's friend started to change his shirt. "you think we should change our shirts?" the young man asked. "um... in this case, yes, for sure."

    They changed their shirts and went back to seal the compost. "Well, we cant be in that much trouble." said the young man. His friend looked back at him with a stern look. "You don't understand." his friend said, "I'm not saying we will be, most likely not, but the USDA can and has before fired us for even little things like this," The serious look on his friend's face said it all. The young man already heard stories of the USDA, and for all he knew this might be one of them.

    They came to the officer, like puppies before their master. The officer reprimanded them about how they couldn't touch the wheels and then the meat. About how if not for the acid spray they would have had to dump the entire compost. They had to sign a document indicating their crime which would be shown to their superiors

. "If it ever happens again, there will be full disciplinary action.".  

fancy way of saying "You'll be fired."

-----

     On the walk to the chabad house for Maariv the young man got to hear a few more horror stories about the USDA and their tyrannous rule, but then the conversation changed to other subjects. "You get used to here." his friend said "Not that it's a good thing, but it's quiet, less distractions, more time to develop your mind and learn some torah." He was right, the young man thought. He actually felt a more clear head while here. He was with people interested in learning schita and kashrus. Even learning unique skills while on the job. He found a barber, a dry cleaner, a Wallgreens, a grocery store, the plant; yes, all a mile long trudge through the snow, but he got used to that. Not to mention if any of the guys were going to Walmart or something he could tag along.  He felt like he was just about settled. 

How clueless he was

When He got home it would all be tossed over

 -----

Life Overturned....Again

NKs and the deadly evil black cows

continued from:

"Are we Being Raided?!" and ":We're Locked in"

------

    Today the young man was assigned to the "NK:s".It basically meant the final lung checker radioed in a cow that didn't pass, then he would have to find the number, stamp it as "NK"m and then wait for the next one, It would have been easy; if not for the noise, the garbled radio, and the Israeli accent."You can chase the cow all the way up the line, but not until here. this is where the USDA checks them. They hate it when you here." That was the line. It ended at those darn USDA.

     The first thing the young man was told was  do NOT touch the BLACK COWS. These cows were condemned for health reasons. "Be careful when you back up. You don't want to even brush the black cows." You did NOT touch them,,,,ever. 

"ok," said the Israeli, "just wait for the last two digits of a number, and you stamp the halves here, and  here. And be CAREFUL not to back up into a "black cow: ok? Don't brush against them. STAY AWAY." Already the young  man had heard a story of an unfortunate soul that was hit by one in transit, and the USDA had him fired/ It was so hypocritical; he watched the USDA handle those cows without gloves or even washing their hands,,,,friggin USDA.

Evil black cows

watch out

------

  Cow number 2-5 

     "2-5 treif. 2-5 treif" the radio said, "2-5 treifm 2-5": the young man repeated. He went up to the line. 2-5 was WAY off from what he saw, He hurried up further.. It wasn't making sense! the numbers were skipping! He kept running upm trying to find 2-5....then... his foot hit the metal platform of the

U

S

D

A

    The officer gave a glance saying "Will this kid dare go for it?" The young man didn't know what to do. He ran back (well didn't really run, that would be stupid) to the senior mashgiach. "I can't find 2-5!" he cried. The mashgiach went out of his station to look. "Sometimes," he said, :a cow is taken out of line. just find it over there if you can," The young man checked it once, twice, three times....2-5 wasn't there. He felt terrible. It wasn't his fault, he did his best, but still, 2-5 wasn't kosher and it got away.

-----

     The black cows. There were a lot more then he thought there would be.There the young man was, spaced out when suddenly, one of those forbidden creatures was being hooked right toward him! He dodged it, only to find another bee-lining to his face on the way to the scrapper! He tswirled around and put his back against the stainless steel platform of "the kitchen" (not the most ideal place) barely missing the "deadly"  graze of the black cow. He saw the USDA officer eying him. Now he found before himself a FOREST of swinging taboo beasts.

How the heck was hr to get back to his station?

    He sucked  in his chest, pressed against the wall, and slicked by the evil black cows, daring not to glance at the USDA people. He made it, He didn't die, 

On for the next day

This time

He didn't get away  

-----

An Unfortunate Brush with the USDA 

An Overnight Life: "Are We Being Raided?!" and "We're Locked in"

Continued from:

Chased by the USDA

-----

    After his escape from the USDA's pursuit the young man managed to find his station. It was smooth, he got the hang of it quickly, though he had to remember that just because he saw a kosher cow didn't mean the mexican was finished with an un-kosher cut of meat. Once he had lifted the lid too early and just managed to catch a treif piece before it landed in his barrel. It was all going quite smoothly and

POOOOW!

Woowoowoowoowoo 

    At that moment the lights flashed into a soft yellow. During that half second the young man though he did

something wrong, then maybe it was supposed to happen, then maybe the plant was blowing up! then

Pitch black...

    The young man stood there, hands extended, lost in a black maze surrounded by cows and machinery. His mind was either blank because of the enormous amount of thoughts running through, or it was just blank. There was so much shock from what just happened that the young man couldn't tell if he was terrorized or not. The murky black lasted but a few seconds, but with his brain going the speed of light it felt like an eternity. Finally the dim emergency lights switched on.

woooooop!

woooooop!

    It was an alarm. Oh G-d. It was a fire. And there was only one way out! They were all going to die horrible deaths like that story from the Great Depression. He opened the door out to the kill floor. There was no fire. Everything had stopped. The workers were standing around bewildered. Across the kill floor he saw some sort of strobe light go off. What was going on? Did the USDA shut us down?

"We're all getting fired!"

  He heard someone yell with a Mexican accent. Oh no. Oooh nooo. They were getting raided for hiring illegals. The young man started to get jittery with fear. He couldn't afford to have this place shut down and be stuck in the middle of nowhere. He desperately prayed for his tour guide rabbi to arrive and rescue him. He waited for agents to storm in. None came. A group of men in brown helmets rushed past. In the distance a woman yelled some commands. The emergency lights switched over to an even dimmer version.

What the hell was going on?       

    Suddenly a huge cheer swept the floor along with a bit of applause, as if the Packers had just scored a touchdown. The young man turned to one of the mexicans who had a huge grin on his face. "Break" was all he said.

    Still not knowing exactly how to get out the young man followed the workers in front of him. At times it did get really dark and once the young man found himself flailing around in black before he caught sight of someone's white helmet.

    When he finally got into daylight the young man could see all the workers coming out from a different part of the plant across the yard. The scene was right out of one of those prison movies; dozens and dozens of them all filing out into the yard with their uniforms.

    The young man sat in the dimly lit rabbi's lounge. Apparently a fuse blew, or three fuses, and it really blew, in a transformer on a telephone pole. They would have to call the city to fix it. It would take an hour. All the other mashgichim congradulated the young man for bringing them such good luck with the extended breaks. They decided to make a minyan for Mincha. There they were, in their boots, helmets, and uniforms, the young man in his bloodied frock, all davening in the dim light. It was quite a scene.

An hour long break

That's nice

-----

"They can't get in!"

"The gate! They Can't get in!"

    "What's he talking about?" The young man asked the Israeli next to him. "The gate is electrical. They can't open it for the  repair guys." The young man chuckled at the catch 22. "Well," said the young man, "We might as well do some shopping while we wait."

"eeeh no. We can't get out"

"Doesn't the turnstile just swing the other way? Like the subway?"

"You have to swipe your card to get out. We're locked in"

Cheeky

-----

    The workers finally managed to do something to the gate an pry it open. The young man was dozing in the lounge when suddenly the lights came . "awwww maaaan." The rest of the day was uneventful. "So how was your first day?" his tour guide asked. "Not as scary as I thought. I think I'll get the hang of this." was the reply. 

The young man still had no clue what this place would be throwing at him...       

An Overnight Life: Chased by the USDA

Continued from

Chaotic First Impression

-----

    "Ah, it's because of the new guy!" someone said. For special reasons, the 10:30 to 11:00 break had been extended to 11:50. It also happened to be the day that the head rabbi flew in from Lakewood to check up on things and to test the two new shochets. It was a very pleasant break. The mashgichim utilized the extra time to learn and discuss various things about kashrus, shchita, even Shobbos. The eighteen year old emerged from the office and all congratulated him for passing the test. It was only ten minutes later the boy was heading out to the kill floor along with the mashgiach doing the simonim (checking the shchita). That gave the lung checkers, the numbers man, and the NK stamper fifteen minutes to get to their stations and the young man an additional five to get to his hanging tenders station.

Except

He didn't know where to find it

    The young man waited for his tour guide rabbi so he could lead him to his station. He followed his guide as before like a duckling, inside the plant, around the corner, through a door, and continued in a somewhat narrow passage way, the line with workers on one side and some big machinery or something on the other. At that point one of the workers started shouting, "Rabbi! Rabbi!" It didn't seem his tour guide could hear so the young man tapped him on his shoulder. The worker caught up. He wasn't calling after the "tour guide", he was calling after him. It was a friendly looking black man in a blue helmet like all the other line workers who came right up and said,

"Rabbi"

"Your glasses"

    The young man's eyes widened in shock and being startled. His hands went right to his face. He had to get out....now.

    The young man tipped his helmet down and walked speedily back, looking down and praying nobody would notice. He just had to make it to the door.

Too late

    The young man went past a white helmeted USDA officer who immediately spotted him. "Rabbi!" he called "Rabbi!" The young man pretended not to hear. "Rabbi!" The young man could sense the officer going after him. "Rabbi! Hey who is that guy!?" The young man continued. After all there were ear plugs for a reason. The scene would have been a rabbi power walking down the floor head down, helmet tipped like a crook and shortly after a USDA officer angrily right after him.

Dead end

   The young man reached the end. The door in front of him, he could see, lead to where they did the packaging, and it was filled with USDA. In front of him was a worker with a cart giving the young man a bewildered stare. "How do I get out!?" the young man blurted, trying his best not to sound panicky. "This door." The worker replied.

It was the door right next to him

   The young man almost burst through the door in his blind escape. He went right to the loading dock, out the door and straight to the rabbi's lounge. He grabbed his glasses and put them on. He let out a sigh of relief. "That's enough excitement for my first day." he said to himself,

 but the young man had no idea what the rest of this day had in mind for him.

His first day was just warming up

An Overnight Life: Chaotic First Impression

Continued from

The Unexpected Destination

.....

9:00AM

    As it turned out, all the apartments were quite decent, his as well. Just messy. Even that didn't matter though, being that his part of the place was cleared out. His roommates were actually very nice and accommodating guys. His original driver (who was actually Romanian not Israeli) told the young man that if he ever needed to go somewhere he could take him, and that he was there to make sure he was comfortable and at home. The worm farmer even lent the young man his coat until the young man could buy a new one. Just down the hall were two guys just about his age (why couldn't he have roomed with them?) one of whom was a shochet at just eighteen!

    His ride finally came. An Israeli who lit up a cigaret right as he entered the car. He was taken to the plant, swiped in, and lead through the workers lounge, some confusing stairs and turns, some noisy machinery, outside to where the yard was and into the Rabbi's lounge. He was immediately greeted by a tall and very friendly rabbi with a beard of grey.

"Hi! Welcome! So, where'd you go to yeshiva?"

"Australia, and a smicha program in NY."

"Nice, Nice....you're hired."

 The young man was given his boots, white pants, white work shirt that said "Rabbi" on the label, a long get-up that looked like a doctor's coat, ear plugs, glasses, beard net, hair net, and finally, a green helmet which indicated he was one of the rabbis.

Then began all the utter confusion

    The young man was strictly forbidden to disclose details of the plant's operations, so much of his tour must be left to the imagination. It matters not for he hardly knew what was going on. He could hardly hear the rabbi explaining what this was and what this was doing amongst the loud machinery and the barrier of ear plugs. 

    As they entered, the young man felt fear, not of the plant itself, but of all the uncertainty. It was another dimension. A totally new world.  The place seemed like a maze filled with chaos. He followed the rabbi as close as he could, weaving between cows on the line, dodging all the busy workers, all the while the rabbi kept explaining everything about the plant which the young man simply wasn't comprehending. It was so much to dive into. There was so much noise, so much going on all around him, so many people all doing different things and already the young man didn't even know how to get back outside. 

    He asked the rabbi to please explain everything in the quiet of his office so he could hear him, but then suddenly the rabbi got some message on his headphones. "Come" the rabbi said. He followed him to a line of cow halves and the rabbi grabbed some sort of stamp. He followed the rabbi up the line where the rabbi stamped a cow with a big red 'NK". "Every cow has a number." the rabbi explained, "You see they tell me and I stamp it, see? oh but see? it goes 40 then 36. what happened? Well.... and those are the USDA officers you want to stay out of their way... and here's where... but of course... and what you do is.... the red dot..." The young man wasn't getting anything the rabbi was saying. It was one thing to cram the whole plant into is head, let alone amongst all this chaos.

    He was lead into a cool and noisy room where workers stood on stages and cut whatever they were supposed to be cutting from a line of cow halves. "So your job today is hanging tenders. You have to make sure the kosher meat goes into this barrel and the treif goes into that. now remember you are the boss. he'll try to argue, but you are in charge. Now the blue dot means... now when they check the lungs they put... a red dot which... or  a red line which... so there's a hay because it's Thursday.

"Rabbi!"

"Yea!"

"Just explain what I need to do in your office and I'll get it!"

    He followed the rabbi like a duckling behind its mother out of the maze and back into the calm solitude of the rabbi's lounge. He sat across the rabbi's desk. "Ok," the rabbi began, "When the cow is shechted properly it's marked with a blue dot. When the lungs are checked they either put a red dot which means... or a red line which means... finally, if it checks out we paint on the kosher symbol. Today is Thursday so it's going to be a "hay". Now sometimes the red line will run down and look like say, a daled and the goy will think it's kosher. You have to be in charge and keep your barrel covered. If there's any doubt then keep it covered. He'll try to argue, but you are the boss. Sometimes the final lung checking will reveal that the cow is really treif, so you have to watch out for an "NK" underneath the symbol. The goy wont see that so you have to watch out for it."

    Finally the young man's first assignment was simplified. He could discard all the irrelevant information and simply focus on; a blue dot, a hay, and maybe an NK, all while having kosher meat tossed at his face. Simple enough.

But his day was about to get a lot more interesting