Max Ryan: Nuclear Whore

Ludka’s voice was monotone and emotionless. She spoke very quickly in a strong Polish accent. With each word, her head would jitter down; then up; then down; then up; her eyes never focusing on anything. I could understand how she earned the nickname, "The Big Chicken". To me, she looked a little like Hitler, with just a bit smaller mustache.

I had been a nuclear design engineer at Ontario Power Generation, or OPG, for only a few minutes and I sitting in my first group meeting at the Pickering Nuclear Generating Station (PNGS). Once a week, the group met to discuss the status of current projects. Ludka, our Section Manager, began the meeting with a long, stern look around the room. That alone should have been warning enough of things to come.

Ludka began, “Next week we have the annual event when the grade nines come to visit the plant to see what we do. If anyone has any grade nines at home please invite them to come”. Ludka's head quickly bobbed up and down and side to side scanning the room, “Does anyone have any grade nines at home?”
I replied with a smile, “Sure, but why would I want my girlfriend to come to my work?”

Insert long, long pause

At the time, I thought it would be a funny thing to say. I thought everyone would smile and this would be my ice-breaker into the group.

Apparently not; instead, my first comment was met with confused, blank stares. Engineers aren’t known for their sense of humour but I had assumed they’d know I was joking.

Have you ever had a moment of complete clarity? I did at that moment. I was in for some long days.

Later that same afternoon, I was still trying to explain to the others that I wasn’t really dating someone in grade nine and no, I did not have any pictures of her.