While I was up there, another guy was replacing the 160 F sprinkler heads with 175 F heads, as the 160's kept going off in the heat. Had to wear insulated gloves so I wouldn't burn my hands on the aluminum ladder.
It was a tad warm up there. And I supposed if I had fallen (fainted or some such) my mangled cooked corpse would have messed up a paper run over the big drying rollers and they would have docked my pay for that. My dad could have used that money, to help pay for my burial.
“a tad warm”
For me, unloading bales of fiberglass in a metal quonset hut, Kansas in August. Very itchy, sweaty work.
Or hooking and bucking bales of hay in Wyoming: there was an occasional PO’d prairie rattler in the twine.
Peeling canvas filter covers from wire frames, for a gravel cleaning machine.
Jobs Mexicans wouldn’t do . . .