Back when I was about 17, in the early 80’s, one of my part time jobs was in a factory that made paper tape computer readers/punchers. It was state-of-the-art technology at the time and the units sold for thousands of dollars each. They were slick machines that looked kind of like reel-to-reel tape machines hybrid with an IBM Seletrex typewriter, only bigger.

I worked in shipping. My job was to take the machines from QC (quality control) to the shipping department and line them up on the shelves to go out based on the shipping information. From there, I would setup the machine on a bench and print out a test tape. I’d usually use the man-readable mode and type something innocuous like the data, time, etc. and attach the tape to the machine. Then I would make a box on my bench. Into the box I would put the form, and shoot the “bun” which was liquid foam that expanded to take up the form’s shape. Then I’d put the unit into the box with the bun, seal it up with wrap and shoot the top bun. It took about 4 minutes total, and I could do about 15 an hour. And it got repetitive. Boring.

The last step was to seal the box, print out the shipping label, and put the box on the outgoing shelves. So what did I do to keep myself occupied and amused? Before I’d close the flaps on the box, I’d take my Sharpie marker, and write a snippet of a poem that I’d read that day, or I’d make one up, or I’d write “Help! I’m being held hostage in this factory.”, “They haven’t fed me all week.”, or some such nonsense. Maybe some Doors’ song lyrics, the disturbing ones, or some Nietzsche; “God is dead, man. Man is dead, God.” Overall harmless little comments, or so I thought.

I’d been there almost a year, when I got called into the front office by the plant foreman. He had 3 pieces of paper in front of him, photocopies, of my flap art. “Scott”, he said, “You can’t keep doing this.”. And he smiled at me. “I understand the why, but you are freaking people out.”. I promised to stop. I kept my job.

Later that week, during a school break when I was working full time, I was on lunch. I was sitting in the cafeteria at a table by myself eating my lunch and reading a copy  of 1984. I was paying zero attention to what was going on around me, focusing on the book. Suddenly, the book was yanked out of my hand by a large, older man. “What you reading boy?” he demanded. “Read the cover.” I said. “We don’t need no book reading around here.” He said. He walked over to the garbage can and dropped my book into the can. I got up, walked around the table to the garbage can, retrieved my book and walked up to him. I brought myself up to my full 6 feet, got in his face and said “If you ever touch my book again, I will slit your throat from ear to ear with a utility knife.” And I pulled my utility knife out of my back pocket and extended the blade. We met eyes, and he looked at the knife and then at me again. I retracted the blade, put it back in my back pocket Then I went back and sat down to my lunch and my book. No one ever bothered me again there. Of course they did look at me a little funny after that.