Gus Gasket

The light in the stockroom

Gus Gasket used to collect his daughter Dee from school in a delivery van that smelled strongly of rubber grommets. The store he worked for kept grommets close to the loading doors because that was where it had room. He eventually went inside to make the place easier to use, secured a better yard job for somebody else and spent the next twenty odd years pointing up at the second shelf. Dee says once she heard him explain where an item was by describing the stain on the carton. He liked that enough to remember which part she'd come in for.

At DGM he brought the stockroom habit to a jar of loose bits. Every usable clip that had been left on a work surface went into the jar. A couple of people came to say how glad they were to have a place to look. Then they began asking Gus to go get the clip for them. He felt disappointed when somebody tried to find one unaided. He disliked how much time it took to explain why they couldn't ask him a third time that morning.

Tea with a lid

Chip Shiftwell brings good Volkswagen parts for the price of a patient exchange. On the afternoon they were putting the paddock up for an open day, Gus had a good description of two parts and an extra opinion about a third. Chip wanted to talk about a change to his Golf. Gus asked which thing had changed first. Somebody may have had both hands off the awning when the canvas slid over the tea table. Gus remembers being able to hear spoons for a second after he stopped being able to see them. He is reasonably sure he knew the proper knot. He will now say as much without claiming he got to tie it.

A freight handler nicknamed Lugzilla came to the wrong bay on a different afternoon, trying to deliver a crate. Gus helped her find the door to the dry stockroom. She looked at the highest shelf he'd meant for arrivals and asked if he'd actually lifted a crate up to it. They put in a lower one together and agreed anybody could sign the new side of the receipt after bringing something in.

Pencil on the line

Dee noticed Gus had kept a practice spot for his Volkswagen Golf GTI Mk1 in pencil. He liked the idea of making it final. He also knew about a driver who needed another half-hour to make up for work. He left his name where it was, put the jar on the second shelf and asked Dee to take his own little box of tools out to the bay ahead of him.

On a closed course Gus likes to find a line he can carry through a pair of bends without a heavy correction. On a shortened turn he feels less patient and will pick up speed before the front has done enough to give him back the wheel. Dee saw him do it before lunch. She saved her words until he came back on his own.

The house rule

The stockroom where Gus works is getting its first entirely new shelves in decades. He wants to keep a few places open so the younger stock clerks can make them their own. In the garage he still checks the clip jar whenever his practice ends. He has asked Dee to write his next two sessions in the booking book. He knows what sort of pen she keeps in her coat.