I described my first job as sampling raw materials and that did take the majority of my time but I also sampled products mid-production. The lab would test them and sometimes an adjustment would be made.
To take the sample, I used a long stainless steel rod with a cylindrical receptacle welded to the end. It could be tricky at times to manage the long sampler and tip the contents into a small glass jar but I got the knack of it after a few tries.
One of the products we made was shaving cream and it was a bit unusual as it was made under vacuum. I don't know the exact methodology but the ingredients were placed in a vast stainless steel tank, the port was shut and vacuum was applied while the stirrer mixed everything.
On this day, the ladies on the packaging line started getting cuts on their hands. It wasn't random, they were all getting cuts There seemed to be something in the shaving cream that was cutting through the tubes as they were handled to put caps on.
I was called to take more samples and then the awful truth became clear. The lab confirmed that there were glass shards in the shaving cream. My boss asked if I could have possibly dropped a glass jar in the cream and not said anything. No, I assured him I had not.
At this stage, I had barely turned 18 and I was a little thing at just over 50kg. My boss, a good six foot and overweight was nearing 40 years old. I didn't think too highly of him but I didn't have a lot bad to say, either. He was just a figure who sat in his office looking angry and harassed. His almost daily shouting matches with the production supervisor were well known and if I'd been a little more savvy I might have realised that this meant neither of them had any significant leadership skills.
I went about my day. As the lowest ranking laboratory person, the issue of the broken glass was not something I needed to think about.
At some point I went to the warehouse under the building. It was a concrete cavern with a low roof and dim lighting. Only one man worked in there and he was often outside loading or unloading a truck.
Suddenly my boss roared out of the gloom to outright accuse me of throwing a sample jar into the shaving cream. This huge man was right in front of me, towering threateningly and well inside my personal space. He started telling me what might happen if a member of the public was cut by the glass I had thrown into the mixer. His fury and frustration were palpable.
It was scary and confronting but I held my ground. I knew I didnt do it and I asked him how the glass in the shaving cream was green when the jars I used were "water white"
Eventually, somebody realised that the viewing port into the mixer was green glass. It was also double glazed. The inner glass had been sucked from it's fastening and then ground into the product by the mixer while the outside piece of glass remained firm. The tank looked unchanged.
Even though the confrontation happened privately, everyone knew that my boss would have been happy to pin it on me and not investigate the real cause. I still remember the apology, he was washing his hands and he removed his watch and placed it on the edge of the sink, taking care not to look at me as he scrubbed his wrists and fussed with his cuffs. It was not sufficient to make up for what had happened but I didn't know how to respond and so I mumbled that it was ok and disappeared as fast as I could.