Bob is on vacation this week, so we are taking this opportunity to dust off some of the more unusual entries from the Cluttered Desk archives. He will be back next week.
Originally Published: 4/30/2012
This is a tale of a work related incident gone awry. It may be illegal work, but an on the job injury is an on the job injury. Who am I to judge?
I only had to read the following opening line and my mind was off and running:
“The Oklahoma Highway Patrol says a portable methamphetamine lab exploded in a man’s pants as he tried to run away from a state trooper during a traffic stop.”
What could I possibly add to that?
The man had apparently been stopped for a traffic offense, and appears to be the type to take his work home with him. The officer that stopped him became suspicious when he smelled a strange chemical odor. I wonder exactly how that went:
“Sir, are you happy to see me, or is that just a meth lab in your pants?”
The man apparently ran at that point, and the active “portable lab”, called a one-pot lab, which experts say should not be shaken a great deal, exploded. He was treated by paramedics and then checked into the Okmulgee County jail for a night of well deserved rest. There was no immediate word on who the man’s employer was, or if he was self employed. I’d lay wages that he was planning to opt out, if Oklahoma had passed that opt out law everyone thought they were going to pass, before they opted out of it.
Also no information on whether OSHA will be investigating this industrial accident. Certainly there are safety issues to be addressed. I would suggest that improper ventilation was an obvious concern. I mean, the poor guy only had this crotch botch because his Crank stank. (Crank is another word for meth, and that is what I refer to. There will be several varied references in this article. If you thought I meant something else get your mind out of the gutter). That odor in turn caused him to run, which made his Crystal burn his pistol (it was either that or “the Geeter burn his tweeter”). At any rate, some agency somewhere, established to protect some people from something, should find out why the man cooking Speed in his shorts was torching his ports.
It is never considered a good thing when a guy makes a meth in his pants.
It pains me to see either a budding entrepreneur or dedicated employee cut down, or blown up as the case may be, in his prime. But probably not as much as it pained him. It could have been worse, however. At least he wasn’t using a Popeil Pocket Mr. Fission Nuclear Reactor*. Those things can really leave a mark.
*Popeil is a trademark name owned by Ronco Holding, Inc. The use of that name in this article does not imply ownership or endorsement of any kind. At the time of this writing, they actually had not yet invented a pocket nuclear reactor named “Mr. Fission”, and the mention of such is purely intended for humorous effect. But if they do invent it, we want a cut of the profits for a killer idea.