Today at work, Phil was polishing. Our polishers are about two feet long, quite heavy and have mops/discs/foams attached to one end. The end spins at up to 15,000 revs per minute. They are unguarded.
When Phil dropped the polisher today we all leapt for cover. The polisher just leapt. See, they have this nifty lock-on switch. Means that when you let go of the trigger, they don't turn off.
Eventually someone got close enough to leap the flailing beast and pull the plug out of the transformer.
It looked a bit rough, had destroyed the foam on the end and was completely wrapped in its own cable. We thought it might be rather ill. So Phil unwraps the cable and untwists it a bit, gives it a once over, puts it on the bench...and plugs it in again.
One important point he overlooked was *turning off the lock-on switch*. Cue a repeat of the above.
After this bout though, the cabling inside the outer sheath was so fucked we didn't risk trying to turn it on again. Phil set about rewiring it whilst everyone blamed everyone else for him dropping it :)
When Phil dropped the polisher today we all leapt for cover. The polisher just leapt. See, they have this nifty lock-on switch. Means that when you let go of the trigger, they don't turn off.
Eventually someone got close enough to leap the flailing beast and pull the plug out of the transformer.
It looked a bit rough, had destroyed the foam on the end and was completely wrapped in its own cable. We thought it might be rather ill. So Phil unwraps the cable and untwists it a bit, gives it a once over, puts it on the bench...and plugs it in again.
One important point he overlooked was *turning off the lock-on switch*. Cue a repeat of the above.
After this bout though, the cabling inside the outer sheath was so fucked we didn't risk trying to turn it on again. Phil set about rewiring it whilst everyone blamed everyone else for him dropping it :)