…and maybe an extra day lopped off the life expectancies of moi and my staff.
When I left for my minivacation last week, the asbestos abatement contractor was busy decontaminating several suites on our floor, by way of moving in some new tenants. A week ago Monday, I walked into the building through a cloud of what smelled like chlorine fumes. The stench inside the office was so toxic it made my nose and throat hurt. I left after a short time; it took three hours for the smell to dissipate from the nose and throat. Yuch!
So now, nine days later, I stroll into the atrium and smell…a smell. It also smells kinda toxic, but it doesn’t resemble chlorine. It gets stronger inside the building, and LOTS stronger inside our office suite. One of the RAs comes in and asks what is that pervasive solvent smell. Solvent, yes.
I call Facilities Management and suggest enough is enough. The FacMan rep says no one has complained of any odors and we should have called the first time we smelled it. I say well, I’m calling now. She says she’ll get back to me.
Several hours later, phone jangles: an all-business woman’s voice on the line. She, it develops, is the owner of the asbestos abatement company, calling to get to the bottom of this. I complain; she says her crew has been told to use a different product, but now it’s FacMan’s job to get the lingering fumes out of the building. Then she says—hang onto your hat, now—that her crew had incorrectly used “a solvent that’s banned on the GDU campus.”
Say what?
“Why on earth,” quoth I, “did you use a banned solvent in a building with classrooms full of kids and offices whose windows can’t be opened?”
“I mean, I just banned it. So after this it’s banned at GDU.”
Fast thinking, Lowest-Bidder Lady!
Shee-ut. What a place.
I sent out two more job applications today, for a total of six.
Great. Maybe you could get workers comp from this. JK. I think it would be great to air out your office window if you have one. Their giving you the run around from the sound of it. Good luck getting them to do anything. 🙁
The windows don’t open. The ventilation system barely works.
The building was condemned several years ago and was slated to be torn down — the top story, whose floors have sagged so you walk up and downhill when you’re moving around up there, is permanently closed. But Our Beloved Employer, whose president has been involved in a massive building campaign to accommodate his six-figure hires while letting the classroom buildings and peons’ offices erode away, decided the structure was…oh, amazing!…sound after all. So the building still stands. More or less.
My solution is to stay out of it as much as possible. With any luck, I’ll soon have a new job that will allow me to stay off the campus: permanently.