Welcome to the club, my colleagues said.
That did not make me feel better.
I spilled paint at the store.
Setting up the scene:
My boss handed a work sheet to all in the paint department. One of my assignments was to down stock and fill in two bays in the major paint aisle. So I was reaching with a hoe to corral a quart can way in the back, to bring it closer to customers’ reach. Another would go behind instead. Rotating stock. And the little sucker slid off the side of the end shelf, from about four feet up.
Somehow it landed bottom side down. But the force popped the top. And out flew, say, a quarter of the quart. To the floor. To surrounding beams. To my closest shoe and jeans leg.
Our policy is:
Worker who goofs cleans up. So I grabbed the spill kit, poured out the absorbing powder, knelt, swept, swept, swept, dust-panned, shop-vac’ed. Used wet rags.
Some people walked gingerly around me, as if I were jinxed. Others walked straight to me and asked their questions. I got up and mixed their paint.
The floor and store look OK.
Me, not so much.
Even after repeated washing, a night of bowling, and more washing, my right hand was very dotted the next morning. Yes, with latex paint.
We’ll see what will happen after the jeans go through the washer, and my shoe gets some swabbing from an old, wet towel.
What’s the worst thing you’ve spilled? What did you do to handle the spill? What’s the worst spill you’ve seen, and how did people react?