56 replies to this topic

[petere]

I was nothing but polite..............

you're being a bit coy..... 

[jonpollak]

A bi weekly thing for anyone working for FOM. Arrive at circuit first day (Thursday) to pick up car pass. Car pass in circuit admin, inside the track. Can't get in the track without a pass, can't get into the circuit to get our pass, so that we can get our pass to get into the track, ad infinitum!
 
It lead to some, er, "heated" discussions, and once, Spa, Pasquale took my pass away, because during said bi weekly discussion, I was accused of calling Pasquale a "wa'#er. After it was proved I hadn't (Pasquale ordering an identity parade where the steward failed to identify me), Bernie took me to one side and asked if I had called Pasquale a w#'nkerr, and I insisted I hadn't, and I hadn't. Bernie's response? "Its ok if you did, I know he's a wa'ker, you know he is, but you can't call him one". He then winked and walk off laughing.

 
Pasquale 'aquired' my girlfriend Layla Sahli months after I dropped her for being a total psycho and rifling through my personal possession while staying in my hotel room in NYC.  She only wanted to be with me because I was the scenographer for Steely Dan and went to all the parties and social events to bask in the reflected Jazz Rock glory of 2 weeks at the Beacon Theatre. a few weeks after that she had become a math teacher (MATH TEACHER?!?!?) in Abu Dhabi and tageted the paddock to aquire Pasquale.
 
Three weeks later I saw a picture of of them together getting into a large black Mecedes at Yas Marina.
 
I don't know for sure but I am pretty positive he caught to the game she played.
 
Jp

[Derwent Motorsport]

There are plenty of Wankers in Belgium as there are many Dicks in Scotland.  Common surname!

[john aston]

And I've been overtaken more than once by stupid Fokkers. 

[Ross Stonefeld]

First time I went to the Speedway I was challenged by the guy at the entrance to Gasoline Alley.
“You can’t come in here without a pass”
“Where do I get my pass?”
“In here”

I recall the present owner of the Speedway telling us that one of the first things he did after acquiring Detroit Diesel Corporation was to relieve the security guard at the main entrance of his duties because he just waved him through and didn’t challenge him. So sometimes knowing who someone is can actually work against you…

 

I worked security when I got out of high school. Sometimes you can't win.

 

You either have to be by the book and an absolute jobsworth "Hey man it's my first day and they're really particular about things" or you're pragmatic and management is unhappy with you. 

 

I worked for a while at a trucking depot and we had management, the truck driver's union, and the security company*. I was working the front gate and I was supposed to stop every truck, write down the serial number on the cab and trailer and the in/out time. We got to a point where they could slow down enough for me to get the numbers. If it was someone doing multiple runs as soon as I recognized the driver approaching I'd give them the thumbs up and just repeat their IDs. 

 

It worked for the gate, it worked for the drivers. One day the bosses wanted us to do it by the book. At rush hour in a big city. Eventually the trucks started backing up onto the road which caused tailbacks near the highway on/off-ramps, so the police showed up asking what was up, etc. So we went back to lift-and-coast.

 

Then one day a driver started hanging out in the shack with me. There needed to be a union rep so a driver would do a stint with me. It was a little cramped for two people but good banter and they brought in a TV and I (quietly)brought in a Playstation for my nightshifts(when the depot was closed so no traffic). I never mentioned anything about racing but someone must have spotted me reading Autosport and one of the drivers brought me a stack of the old Indycar magazine.

 

Ah the late 90s. I'd love that job now. Make time and a half sitting in a cubicle with windows and surfing the internet? 

 

 

 

*the ultimate example of the lack of comms and cooperation in our triangle was late one evening I notice lights flashing off the walls inside the guard shack. I turn around and there's a fire truck at the barrier.
 

"Uh, hi"
"Where's the fire?"
"What fire?"

 

Somewhere in the depot a trailer full of truck tires, industrial batteries, and a large amount of tennis balls was smouldering. 

 

"The fire department is here?"
"let them in!"

 

I pointed, shrugged, and off they went. 

 

We ended up with a very large pile of soaked tennis balls. Like enough to sustain Wimbledon. One of the fire guys came by the next day and asked if he could grab a few for the station Dalmatians. No problem my man, always happy to help and what else are we going to do with them. Hell tell your friends.

 

So the city of Phoenix fire station dogs all got some toys. And then I got a talking to from management, the security company, the insurer, my grandmother's reverend, etc.

 

My ultimate boss at the security company was an ex-NY cop. He was very no nonsense and I was his favorite employee to the point I illuminated the shortcomings of my supervisor who was not long for the world. And I was off in the UK attempting my racing career when Big Man called my dad in Wisconsin to ask where I was and if I'd ever come back.

 

Mainly because I knew how to judge the balance between what we were supposed to do and what we needed to do. 

 

So long story short, I have sympathy with the security guys. There are absolutely little hitlers, but most guys are just trying to keep their jobs while trying to get you through smoothly. Believe me we prefer a lighter touch. I don't want to stop and inspect every truck, I want to get back to reading about the new Penske.

Edited by Ross Stonefeld, 06 July 2023 - 12:50.

[Sterzo]

Thank you for those marvellous stories, Ross. Up till now, every time I saw your name I thought "Formula Palmer Audi!" but now I'll think "soaked balls!"

[Ross Stonefeld]

That would be Formula Ford testing at Mallory Park