My Job, My Hell...

[Chicago Zombie]

Very interesting thread! Great stories!
I think I might have a story to share…

So, a friend & I took a job working at a convention in Chicago last year. I got there first & waited for my friend outside to help guide them in.
We went into the building, expecting much more considering there was a convention in progress.
What greeted us was a long hallway w/ closed doors lining the walls. So we proceeded down the hall. The hallway finally forked off & we picked the right path because it led to an elevator. There was a person working the elevator & they got us to the right floor of the convention. Yeah, signs would have been great!

Once we reach our floor, again, a series of hallways & closed doors. We followed the convention murmur to the convention room. Many people were there mingling, talking, eating. We finally found somebody in charge so that we could get started.
They led us to a bathroom to change. This bathroom was old & rickety. The lock on the bathroom door didn’t even lock! So we both entered the one person bathroom, and took turns against the door so we could change into our uniforms.
Work wasn’t bad, the convention was fun, and soon we were done with our shift.

So…back to the bathroom to change back into our street clothes.
As we were changing I turned to my friend and said in a low, calm voice.
“You know, if there was a zombie attack right NOW we would die!”
My friend looked at me with BIG eyes, “Why would you say that?”
Now, I’m not sure if they meant: what’s wrong with you- why are you talking about zombies!?!?!?
OR, if they meant: please, list the ways why you think we would die in a zombie attack.
Anyway, I went with the second choice and kept talking.

I said first we are in an area we don’t know that well, there was one hallway to get here, and if the dude in the elevator has already turned into a zombie we’d be in serious trouble! Besides this not knowing this area, we also don’t know the layout of this building.
The bathroom we are in doesn’t lock. There is no window in this room. And (pointing above us) that vent is too small to escape through… besides I don't have my screwdriver with me...
Just as I finished listing the reasons we were going to die incase of zombie invasion,
THE LIGHTS WENT OUT! And we were in the pitch black.
(all while we were ½ in uniform, and ½ changed into street clothes.)
My friend started SCREAMING! Man, perfect timing.

I quickly went into zombie survival mode. I dropped to the floor, felt for my bag, and then felt along the strap of the bag to get my flashlight (where I keep it attached).
I turned on the flashlight and we finished changing to the light of my flashlight and to the sound of people shouting-
“Are you OK? WE blew a fuse! Hold on the power is coming back on”
I just couldn’t ask for better timing!

[TheLastRifleMan]

Gunslinger and Subdiver, those were great stories. In some ways, makes me glad I was never in the military.

I have been too tired to post in this thread but glad some other folks have some really great tales to tell.

Keep 'em coming!

[The Highwayman]

Godammit!!!! I had about 6 paragraphs written down, explaining all about how I got into the Scuba Diving business, and all the background to it. Then, while trying to inbed a link, I accidentally hit the back button on this window, instead of the other one I was linking to, and lost the whole damn thing!!!! Damn, damn, damn, dammit!!!!


Anyway, now I'm too frustrated to go back and start over. So, I'll do the background thing another time.

Okay, here goes.....



I was working as a Divemaster, Rescue Diver, and Medic First Aid (now referred to as Emergency First response) on a good friend of mine's dive boat that he co-owned with his cousin.. I had a lot of duties onboard, from being the first mate while underway (sometimes even piloting the ship, a 65' former crew boat, called the Reef Cruiser), to helping fix equipment malfunctions pre-dive for our customers, to being the first one overboard shooting down to depths of up to 100' deep with a line, to tie off to wrecks so our divers had a line to descend and ascend to the wreck easily, and then being the last one out after I had untied from the wreck. I also helped out with any medical issues we had on board, which thankfully were very few, and most of the minor variety.

Anyway, being that I had to exert myself so much diving down to tie off literally as fast as I could go, with extra weights on my belt to help me sink ( ) faster, I used up a good deal of the air in my tank just going in to tie off and once more for untying. Usually after we would do a wreck, we would get all the divers aboard, give them some surface time to decompress, and head into shallower water for a second tank dive on one of many local reefs. For these dives, we would just dump the divers in up-current at the end of a reef, and let the groups of divers drift with the current, and then retrieve them when they were done. Duing these dives, my main job was to keep an eye on the dive flags, to make sure no other boats were encroaching too close to them, or that they were surfacing early for an emergency or whatnot. (Interesting side note- we had this one couple that were regulars on our trips, that were into a different style of diving than the others on these reef trips. Almost without fail, when they would go in, instead of drifting over the reef with the current like the rest of the groups (we could accomodate up to 35 divers), they would head in the opposite direction for a bit, then their dive flag would just stop, and not move for quite a while. One time we were so curious, we headed over near them in the boat, and realized by looking at the depth finder, that they were actually out in the middle of "the desert"- meaning there was nothing where they were but sand. Well, after carefully observing their physical conditions and demeanors when they would surface much earlier than the other groups, we put two and two together and figured out they must have been engaging in their own form of "underater sports" that most folks leave for the bedroom, if you know what I mean...Hey, whatever floats their boat, right? But, I digress.....)

Anyway, this one particular day we were out, and the seas were about 3' to 5', and pretty sloppy. We had done a wreck dive first that was a real bear for me to get down to; the current was running at about 2 knots, which may not sound like much, but when you're underwater and trying to swim against it, it really sucks. You basically move about 5' to the side, for every 10' you swim down. So I had to struggle to get to the wreck and tie off, which had used up quite a bit more air in my tank than normal. (A little background- Most tanks have the air filled to between 2500 and 3000 psi of air. We had a rule on the boat that everyone had to come back with at least 500 psi left in their tank in case of emergency. If you went below that (which 500 psi could give you about 10 minutes or so, at a depth of maybe 12' deep{disclaimer-it's been many years, so I'm a bit rusty on the numbers}) you were banned from the boat in the future.

Anyway, after the wreck we ran about 20 minutes south to give the divers some surface time, then dropped them on a reef in about 45' of water. Everything so far had gone pretty smoothly, but towards the end of this dive, the weather started worsening. A front was moving in, and the skies were becoming dark and angry, as well as the wind and waves were picking up. Once the dive groups started surfacing, we would head over to them, and my job was to man the dive platform, and assist the divers with their equipment and getting back onboard. Due to the worsening conditions, a few people were getting a little jostled around while climbing the ladder, due to the weight and awkwardness of the tanks and whatnot. However, besides a couple of bumps and bruises, all were retrieved without further incident.

So, we headed back to port, which was about 10 miles away or so. Due to the dives we had done that day, we were just about the last dive boat to head back in for the day. As we were steaming towards the inlet, conditions continued to worsen. People were sliding and stumbling all over the deck, trying to get out of their wetsuits and gear. Yet, we had been out in worse before, so we weren't that concerned really. Then, as we were still about 2 miles or so out, the call came in over the ship's radio.......






Getting a little tired, so I think I'll finish the rest tomorrow night...


[Que suspense]

[shrapnel]

Goddamnit, dude, you suck.


Please finish the story?

[JCgoose]

comeon you cant do that

[The Highwayman]

Alright, alright.....


I've got 45 minutes till bedtime, so I guess I can finish it. Okay, where was I? Oh yeah.....




So, we're loaded down after a long day diving, headed back to port with a continually worsening sea. That was when "The Call" came in......


We were being hailed by a Coast Guard cutter in the area. There was a bad scene going down, right in the middle of Hillsboro Inlet (see pic), where a sailboat that was trying to navigate the tricky curents and very nasty choppy swells had misjudged the lull between "sets" of waves, and ended up capsized directly in the breaking waves. Below is a pic of the inlet, on a very calm day.



If you notice in the pic, the northern jetty extends out, and curves out almost directly across the inlet, pointing south. The reason for this is to keep the swells from breaking into the anchorage inside, where boats commonly raft up and anchor to hang out. Directly under where the picture was taken from is where the waves break when the sea gets big (as it was this day). This is where the hapless sailboat ended up capsized.


Okay, so the CG saw us on approach and recognized us (we were a pretty close knit commercial boating community, and with only about 5 different dive boats that used this particular port, it was pretty easy to recognise each from a distance) and reported the situation. It was bad enough the boat had gone over, effectively blocking the entrance to the inlet, but there was more; there had been 5 people aboard, and other passing boaters had picked up only four. There was still one person missing, believed to be below deck and possibly trapped (hopefully in an air pocket). Unfortunately, the CG cutter on scene was too large to realistically get close enough to do much, and wasn't the type of ship that was equipped for diving. That's where we came in.....


That particular day, my friend's cousin (co-owner of the boat with him) who happened to be a Master Instructor and total diving badass, was not along on that trip. Also, my friend had a bad cold, which precluded him from diving, so he was just along for the ride and to help out on deck. See where this is going?


Yep, as fate would have it, I was the only person who was qualified as a Rescue Diver that was potentially able to respond. The CG advised us of the missing boater, and asked if we would be able to intervene. There was by no means any obligation legally for us to do so, but morally was a whole different matter. Like I said, we were a pretty tight-knit community, and we took care of our own. So when they looked to me, there was never any question in my mind of whether or not I was going in; It was on.

Now I had mere moments to get geared up as we were approaching quickly, since someone's life was potentially hanging in the balance. I quickly rigged up my tank and hooked up my hoses, threw on my weight belt, and was ready to sholder my rig, when I realized I had a problem. You see, having to exert myself so much earlier to tie to the wreck, there was only about 900 psi left in my tank. Plenty of time for maybe 15 minutes of air in the relatively shallow depth of the inlet, if I were just going on a leisurely dive. But this was about the farthest thing from that; my pulse had already started racing, and my adrenaline was pumping. Yet there was no other choice; all the other diver's tanks were as low or lower from thier earlier dives, and my friend didn't even have his gear because he was sick. So I had to take my chances with what little I had.


We slowed when we got maybe 100 meters away from the foundering sloop, and swung wide to get turned around so I could drop in off the stern. The captain manuvered in as close as he dared in reverse, all the while having to keep a constant eye over the bow on the approaching waves. When he dared go no closer, he gave me the signal and I jumped overboard. Right away the water seemed to be about 20 degrees colder than only a few hours earlier, obviously a reaction to me being in such an excited state. I immediately started stroking towards the overturned boat, with my snorkle in my mouth, saving my air until I realy needed it. I was approaching the boat from the opposite side from where it overturned, meaning I was headed toward the bottom of the boat. I had to battle the current as I tried to swim around the bow in order to get to the deck of the vessel. Well, it was like being in a washing machine with a huge wooden battering ram trying to bash my body all around.

I finally got around to find that the deck was mostly submerged, including the stairway that lead belowdeck. At this point I was breathing heavily, and starting to tire from having to battle the waves and the currents that were conspiring to keep my from getting there in one piece. So I popped my regulator in my mouth, and moved in, alll the while knowing that the closer I got, the more danger I was in.

I finally got to the steps leading in, and was getting bashed continually against the deck and rails. I did everything I could to pull my self into the bowels of the heaving beast, trying to not get my skull bashed in. As I swam diagonally inside, I started in, my mind started to imagine what lay before me; would I find some poor frantic soul trapped inside, with just a few more breaths of air pocket left, or was I too late, and about to encounter a corpse, sloshing around inside it's watery grave. As I got to the bottom of the stairs, I started to get a little disoriented. I had never been in this vessel in it's normal upright stable condition, let alone in it's present state. I tried to keep myself stable as I made my way foreward toward the bunks in the bow. I jammed my elbow on a cabinet as I approached the bunk, and cried out in pain, yet no one was able to hear me. I could barely see in the dim watery enclosure, and more felt around than actually saw anything. But I soon realized that unless there was some hidden compartment, I was the only soul aboard. I turned around to retreat, and even tried to see if there was anything body-like floating around the galley. Nothing.

As I made my way back "topside", I was starting to panic; did I really check everywhere? Was there someone in there and I just missed them in my state of disorientation? Was I leaving some poor soul behind? I tried to convince myself that I thouroughly checked everywhere, but still couldn't shake the nagging feeling. I made my way out, and immediately slammed my head into a hatch cover, just about splittiong my cranium open wide. I surfaced and tried to compose myself. I decided that I would try to check around the deck to see if they had somehow gotten entangled in some line and were trapped lifelessly there. As far as I could tell, this was also empty. I started to push myself away from the deck, in order to swim out and around to get back to my boat, and all of a sudden took a huge breath of seawater! I quickly looked at my gauge and realized that I was completely out of air! I spit my regulator out, and popped my snorkel in, and started stroking back seaward. It was then that it hit me; if I had taken even another couple of moments belowdecks searching, I may very well have run out down there. In a situation like that, I very well could have panicked and easily drowned. I had gotten away within a few seconds of my life being in danger, literally.

As I got out past the break, I signaled to the captain that I was okay, and got ready to be picked up. I was physically beat, mentally spent, and yet I couldn't help but feel that I had abandoned someone in there. As I dejectedly climbed the ladder on the boat, and collapsed on a bench with not one ounce of energy left, the capatin came over to me, and told me something that made me so happy, yet made me want to lash out in rage at the same time; apparently, just moments after I had gone in, the CG had radioed my boat and informed them that the fifth person had been picked up by another boater, and they hadn't realized it right away. By that time I was too far gone for them to yell me back; I simply couldn't hear them over the crash of the surf.


So, I had risked possible death or serious injury, for no reason at all. I was dumbfounded, but yet glad to know that the other boater was safe. I just wish I had known it sooner!


We hung around until a local towboat arrived and safely towed the sailboat in out of the break, then ran in and returned to our dock. All was not lost though, as apparently I had done a "heroic" enough job to impress a certain young lady onboard, who decided she was duely impressed enough that she felt compelled to ask me to dinner. The rest you'll have to leave to your imaginations!

All's well that ends well, as they say!

[Istvan56]

A great story and I'm glad it ended well for you. I have a different story about an emergency response that didn't go well.

Almost two decades ago I was a crime prevention specialist with Portland, Oregon's Community Policing Program. This was a volunteer post I held in addition to my day job with my current agency. It only took a couple of nights a month as we met with the local neighborhood watch groups, etc. While attending the meetings I wore a shirt and tie, a little better dressed than most of the folks in attendence but I was there representing the Portland Police. I mention my attire since it led to confusion later on.

After one committee meeting I was driving home from the community center on a main residential street when I came up on a single vehicle accident. There was a Harley-Davidson softtail on the grass by the sidewalk and the rider about twenty feet behind it on his back between a parked car and the curb. A group of neighbors were out standing and talking with only one guy kneeling beside the injured biker who was a middle-aged white male (typical Harley owner).

I pulled over and checked out the scene as I retrieved my FAK, donned gloves and pulled out gear including a blood pressure kit. There was rubber from the front tire hitting the curb and dents in the grass where the bike had flipped end over end several times before landing where it did facing backwards. From the signs I could see that it hadn't just tossed the rider forward but also landed on his chest before bouncing again. The rider hadn't just flown forward but also tumbled ending up next to the curb. So I knew he had a flailed chest and likely back injuries. As I knelt next to the victim I also found that he didn't have a "brain bucket" on. Since this was in Oregon with a mandatory helmet law I looked around to see where it had come off at. It was back not far from the first impact mark, apparently he hadn't had the chin strap fastened on the half helmet.

Of course the first thing I went to see if he was still breathing. He was but it was rapid and shallow, likely due to the chest injuries. The man was unconscious and as I grasped his head to immobilize it I felt blood at the back of his head. Worse yet his skull felt like mush back there so I very carefully held his head in place. I asked the crowd who had called 911 and everybody looked at each other dumbfounded. It was a warm summer evening, about 10:10 PM, and folks had just come out from their houses wearing their PJ's. Nobody had a cell phone. I asked for the people to get in there and call 911 to report the accident with major injuries. Several people went back inside to call. I continued to immobilize his head and had the first guy who was there to assist the victim do a secondary exam for further injuries.

Now the waiting began for professional help to come and take over. We were located just three blocks from the nearest fire station so I was expecting a very short response time for a truck with Basic Life Support (BLS) rated EMT's if not an Advanced Life Support (ALS) paramedic rescue unit. I vaguely knew the guys at that company since I had joined the local Community Emergency Response Team (CERT) program in the previous year. A lot of the fireman were a bit dubious of the Neighborhood Emergency Teams (NET) as the local CERT program was called, we were just a pilot program back then. Btu out of NET "uniform" I doubted the guys would recognize me and they didn't when they finally got there.

That was the problem. Portland was just establishing "enhanced 911" service. This allows the dispatcher to see the address of the caller, something we take for granted now but was brand new. Being new the software had its share of bugs and folks calling 911 often got busy signals. If they hung up and called again they lost their place in the call queue. That was the case with the people I asked to call 911. They spent thirteen minutes repeatedly calling 911 before one of them got through and then came back outside to report that EMS was on the way.

After a while the victim's consciousness level changed, he started to wake up. He was incoherent, moaning in pain and he started to thrash about. It was all we could do to keep him from twisting his body further injuring his neck and spine. I did all I could to calm him down and reassure him help was on the way.

It was twenty minutes after I came across the wreck before the first unit arrived on scene. Naturally one of the neighbors asked them what took them so long to get there. You could tell the fire fighters were frustrated from the moment the got off the truck and started barking orders at everyone. I tried to tell them the victim's injuries but I was cut off with a brisk, "Are you a doctor?" When I replied, "No" I was told to get the f**k out of the way which I did. (At least I didn't make it worse by admitting I am a federal cop.) They got the guy on a backboard, ventilated and into the ambulance when it arrive. At least once they were there it wasn't long before they had him on the way to the hospital. Knowing the distance to the trauma unit I figured he just would make it within the "golden hour." Still, with the injuries he had sustained I doubted he would make it.

After I went home I told my wife of my experience and we both watched the news to see if there was any mention of the accident. There wasn't so for the next few days I checked the newspaper but there was no mention of the wreck. Asking around the police precinct I found out the cause of the man's accident. Apparanently a car full of teenage boys was speeding around the curve and they drifted over into the oncoming lane. The motorcyclist had to swerve to avoid being hit head on by the car and he hit the curb causing the spill. The teenagers may not have noticed the wreck they caused and just kept on driving. Police were still after them but had no leads. I never found out the fate of the victim but it couldn't have been good.

[Samurai Penguin]

Man, that sounds like a cluster all the way around. Good job helping out, Istvan--you did what you could.

Folks, I'm totally against helmet laws, but this is what can happen if you choose to either ride without a helmet or don't fasten it properly. The guy made a dumb choice, whether due to 'helmets will kill you' mythology or simply a misplaced sense of style.

It cost him big.

[Jenny]

Nice story. I would have given that old cuss Solar Mind Crush thirty or more times and he will still keep coming. That guy must be a devil or something.

[razi]

Folks, I'm totally against helmet laws, but this is what can happen if you choose to either ride without a helmet or don't fasten it properly. The guy made a dumb choice, whether due to 'helmets will kill you' mythology or simply a misplaced sense of style.

It cost him big.

Sadly it also costs the state a lot of money as well.

[TheGunslinger]

Highwayman - Holy shit dude, that was an awesome story - and you got the girl at the end, too ! Badass!

[JCgoose]

Highwayman that was crazy awesome of you!

[shrapnel]

Thanks for not leaving us all with a cliffhanger.




Also, good job on being willing to save someone, despite a potentially massive risk to yourself. And wooooo hero-sex!

[TheLastRifleMan]

Jeez, now I feel bad. Nothing I have encountered so far even compares to to some of the things you folks have encountered

Highwayman, wow. You need to come up here to the Big Mitten and drive on some of the wrecks on the Great Lakes.

Istvan, I encountered something like that myself about ten or fifteen years ago. It's never good.

[JCgoose]

Jeez, now I feel bad. Nothing I have encountered so far even compares to to some of the things you folks have encountered

Your stuff is still crazy good to read though what about those other two options we had to choose from?

I have only one real good work story but its nothing compared to these

[TheLastRifleMan]

Oh yeah, they are coming, Goose. Probably "Close encounters of the Ugly Naked Kind" will be next.

Don't ever say I didn't warn you.

And post your work story. I really want to hear it.

[JCgoose]

Ok well this is more the kind "mate that's not gravy!" story

Back before I got into IT or even moved out of home I worked for one of Australia's large supermarket chains. Lets call it Failworths.

Well I worked in the deli slicing meat, "roasting" chicken and generally doing my best to never had to deal with customers.

Now I worked at what at the time was the highest earning and most frequented store in Oz. Now becuase of this the store didn't really get time to do upgrades and as such the deli was well behind on all of its equipment. The newest items being knives taken from homeware.

I worked in the in store for 3 years. I've got to say compared to flipping burgers it wasn't all that bad if you could keep away from the customers.

Anyhow so one shift I head in and find its only myself and two of the girls on for a reasonably busy shift and as its around the holiday seasons, the other staff are all uncontactable or on leave. Taking things in had we get to work trying to fill every's orders of ham, seafood, chicken, salads etc

About 6hrs into the 8hr shift we run into a problem. the drain's htat haven't really been dealt with since the deli section opened are begining to clogg and back flow up a nasty mix of water, oils, assorted blood, fats and rotten meat.

The section manager takes a look tell us the customers cant see it and its not that much so be careful when walking around. The dingbat then pours a cocktail of chemicals down the drains to try and coax them back to order. This seems to work for all of 15 minutes then they start flooding with a vengence.

The deli gets ordered closed to we start trying to pack everything up, sell as many cooked chickens as possible and not think about whats happening to our shoes and feet...

Well I am pushing along the a moving set of racks with all our seafood stacked on it towards the fridge. It's slow going because of the bad footing and now thickening water (the chicken cooker is being hosed out adding more crap to the pool on the floor). I get just on front of the door when something (later turned out to be the most rotten hunk of meat I've ever seen) not only gets caught in the wheels of the racks but tilits them.

I stop and start trying to fish the damn thing out. The Supervisor comes back seeing a rack not moving and starts to yell as he pushes it forwards. I yelp as my finger gets caught he tries to pull it back tipping it over and sending 30+kg for fish onto one of the poor girls.

We eventually all get cleaned up. i meet the other union reps and put in a complaint for them not getting someone out ot clean the damn drains and head home. Next morning I wake up to find my feet no just red and blistered but covered in sores and pus. my leather boots are coming apart.

Turns out all that crap does not agree with human skin...

Never worked or shopped their again.

[shrapnel]

Mate! That's not gravy!

[Oneswunk]

nasty. So did they let ya take any of the food home.

[JCgoose]

Used to get free/discounted stuff there but not that day. I think they tossed all thge stuff and went to unopened and reserve stock

[EECHAY]

Holy crap! That's crazy that just touching rotten meat water would cause your skin to break out in pustules. Imagine getting swarmed by zombies!

[JCgoose]

well its was probably the chemical mix added in by the super that did that but i am not keen to do it again to test

[TheLastRifleMan]

Goose, holy crap! That is just nasty.

My first job was at a restaurant, bussing tables and cleaning all the things the other employees did not want to even touch. Then, thanks be to the Gods, they hire a new guy to do the same things I was doing, since they wanted to move me up to Official Head Cleaner of All Things.

First day this guy is on the job they ask him to mop the floor in the storage room. No problem, he tells them, I was a custodian's assistant in the Military. He grabs a bucket and a mop and starts to fill it op with hot water and the manager leaves him be to handle some other problem. I was cleaning tables, filling ice machines and baking dinner rolls all at the same time when I smell chlorine, real heavy, coming from the storage room. I go and look back to see how the green horn is doing and find out what the smell is.

All I can see is a white vapor pouring out the bottom of the storage room door. The smell of chlorine is gagging me and I step back just as the door swings open and the noob stumbles out, great gouts of snot and mucus tumbling from his nose and mouth like an alien entity is trying to crawl out of him. He can't catch his breath and collapses on the floor and I notice his uniform, which is brand new, is three shades lighter then my year old one I am wearing. I help him get up and pull him out as the manager rounds the corner and wants to know what happened. I tell him I don't know but he better get the back door open and get a fan going, since I saw fumes coming out of the door. He does so and I haul Mr. Assistant Custodian outside, where is is starting to breath again. He says he can't see and keeps rubbing his eyes with his hands, probably making things a whole lot worse. I try to grab his hands and tell him to stop but his skin is slippery. Not like oil or grease, but like a baby oil type slickness. I try to grab him by the shirt and when I do, the sleeve pulls off. Not a tear, mind you, but right at the seam. The threads have rotted away.

The assistant manager comes out with an eye wash bottle and starts flooding Mr. Assistant's eyes. The Head Manager hollers for me to help him with the fan and then when the room is clear of whatever the noobie did in there to go in a clean it up. In the meantime, the assistant manager is taking Chemical Ali to the emergency clinic down the road.

After about a half an hour the room is somewhat back to normal, smell wise. The fan, a big 24 inch industrial blimp filler, has cleared out any noxious fumes that could kill me but may later give me cancer. I find the mop and bucket and start to push it out when I find two bottles, both empty.

The first bottle is Lime Away, a product that dissolves lime and hard water deposits in bathroom. Active ingredient: Chlorine.

The second is a bottle of ammonia, industrial grade. I can't remember what percent but it was pretty high.

I find out later that Mr. Assistant Custodian dumped both bottles into only a half gallon of boiling hot water. Basically, he had made mustard gas without the blistering agent in an enclosed 5 foot by 12" room. This explains the slick, greasy texture of his skin and the light colored, dissolving uniform. Everything in this storeroom that was edible had to be tossed, a big loss.

It was Mr. Assistant Custodian's first day. And his last.

[TheGunslinger]

Shit, he was lucky he didn't get fired from the human race for that stunt.

Jesus. I guess that's why he was only the custodian's assistant!