After a fruitless three hours trying to get a machine to work at the limits of its design, Lucacz (Polish, line leader, highly motivated, very excitable and could talk a glass eye to sleep at a thousand paces
) is offering some of his renowned advice. He means well...and sometimes does have a knack of working things out, or finding a fix to make things work in true East European style (they're very resourceful)...he offered this fix..
'If you jam a lemon in there, that forces the tube against the drive wheel...and use a piece of card to make that flap a bit longer, it will activate sooner'
His logic is spot on, it would go some way to making the damn thing work...but...
'No
, its ridiculous Lucacz, friggin the machine like that, you're right it would do something, but its not the way. It should work properly, or rather, we should stop trying to make it do something it wasn't designed to do'
'Yeah, but if you blah blah blah..
.'
'No, Lucacz. if your fuel pump isn't working very well on your car, you don't adjust everything on the engine to compensate...
you fix the fuel pump. Otherwise you end up with a fuct up engine...and that's whats happening on this machine. We're adjusting everything to compensate and its wrong, we're not dealing with the main problem, a problem no-ones been able to fix the two frikkin years ive been here
'
And having thrown in the towel half an hour after (something I HATE doing)..i'm walking through the next packing area..one I don't usually cover..
Lena smiles as I walk past...'What are you doing over this side ?
'
'I don't want any trouble from you
..ive had enough from them in there (looking back where ive just come from)'
'What's happening ?'
'Its ok, a machine that should be scrapped, I can't get it going....or maybe i'm crap, perhaps its me ?
'
I walk off...and pass Celeste...'Hiya Celeste'
. (I didn't realise Celeste was a name as well, she didn't realise, and why would she, my old Bianchis colour was called Celeste)