6:48 a.m. — I unlock the bay door and the office cat walks in behind me. Her name is Pellet. She has been showing up at the warehouse since she was a kitten and has gradually convinced everybody that she lives here, which she does. I put kibble in her bowl. She disappears into the rack of empty totes near the back wall and goes to sleep there until lunch.
7:00 a.m. — The bay starts up
Daniel and Theo arrive. Daniel is one of our drivers who is doing a rotation in the bay this week to learn the inspection routine. Theo is our head bay tech, who has been here longer than I have and knows things about IBCs that I do not even know I do not know. Theo flips on the hot-wash skid pre-heater. It takes about 20 minutes for the wash water to reach 165°F.
7:15 a.m. — Intake
Five totes from a buy-back run yesterday are queued in the intake corner. Daniel weighs each one. Two come up about three pounds heavy — there is residual liquid in the valve cavity from a glycerin distillery. We tag those for an extra drain cycle. The other three are within a pound of empty.
8:30 a.m. — First wash cycle starts
The first three totes go into the cold pressure wash bay. The water hammer when the wash starts is loud enough that everybody is wearing earpro. The bay gets misty from the spray and the air smells like clean wet plastic.
9:10 a.m. — A leak we did not expect
Tote number 14,442 (yes, we are at 14,442) fails the leak test at the valve. Theo opens the valve, looks at the seat, and finds a hairline split that is not visible until you press on it with a fingernail. He swaps in a fresh seat from the parts shelf. Twelve minutes later the tote passes. Daniel notes the swap on the Birth Certificate.
10:30 a.m. — Coffee and the inbox
I step out of the bay to answer customer email. Three new inquiries overnight: a co-packer in Pueblo who wants twenty 275s reconditioned and food-grade; a hobby winemaker in Boulder who wants a single Grade B for fermentation; and somebody in New Mexico who wants to know whether we sell totes painted bright orange for a movie production. We do not currently. I write the New Mexico person a polite reply explaining what would be involved.
11:45 a.m. — Aldo brings tacos
There is a place near the warehouse that does carnitas tacos for $2 each. Aldo has been bringing them for the team on Fridays for as long as anybody can remember. Pellet wakes up and demands a piece of carnitas. We give her one because she is, technically, a senior member of the team.
1:00 p.m. — Custom mods job
A customer in Wyoming has commissioned six Grade B totes converted into water-cattle troughs for their ranch. The conversion involves cutting an oval opening in the top of each tote, smoothing the edge, and welding a short stainless pour-spout into the bottom corner. Theo runs the cutting line while Daniel hands him the templates. By 4:30 they are halfway through the order.
3:30 p.m. — Birth Certificates
I sit at the inspection table with the morning's reborn totes lined up in front of me. I read each tote's tag, pull the corresponding wash log from the printer, sign each Birth Certificate, photograph it with my phone, and slip it into a clear sleeve attached to the tote. This is the part of my day that I most enjoy, even though it is also the most boring. There is something deeply satisfying about putting a name to a tote and watching it walk back out into the world.
4:50 p.m. — Pellet has hidden again
We always do a quick walk through the bay before locking up to make sure Pellet is not stuck in a tote. Today she is asleep on top of the inspection table on top of the morning paper. We do not wake her. We lock up around her.
5:00 p.m. — Bay closed
Eleven totes reborn. Three Birth Certificates signed. Six custom-mod conversions in progress. One slightly distressed valve seat replaced. Zero pounds of material to landfill. Pellet asleep on the paper. A perfectly average day at the bay.
— Marisol García, IBC Denver