3 days and no call. This is getting ridiculous

Let me tell you something: I don’t have time for nonsense. Three days ago, I ranked 186th on Local 40’s apprentice list. Three days ago. Now, I don’t know about you, but when I hear “you’ve been ranked,” I expect the gears to start turning. Instead, I’ve been sitting here, waiting, like some kind of rookie.

Here’s the thing: I’m not just some guy off the street. My dad has been in the trade for 30 years—30 solid years of running cars, troubleshooting controllers, and handling tools most people wouldn’t even know how to hold. Growing up, I used to tag along when he was working on side projects. I practically grew up in motor rooms. You think I don’t know this trade? Think again.

But apparently, Local 40 doesn’t see it that way. Yesterday, I called the hall because, frankly, I wanted answers. I spoke to some woman who, no offense, probably has no clue what an escalator step chain is, let alone how to install one. I asked her straight up: “When am I going to get the call to start working?” And what does she say? “The list is processed in order, and it could take some time. Just be patient.”

Patient. Right. Easy for her to say. Meanwhile, I’ve been putting in the work. I’ve spent countless hours watching YouTube videos on everything from door operators to hydraulic lifts. I follow elevator technicians on TikTok and Instagram, soaking up all the tips and tricks. I even downloaded a manual for a Schindler 3300 and read it cover to cover. I’m ready. I know more now than half the guys they probably have out there working.

But you know what? She didn’t seem to care. Probably because she’s jealous. She hears the confidence in my voice, the knowledge I’ve accumulated, and she feels threatened. That’s fine. Not everyone can handle talking to someone as qualified as me.

Here’s the kicker: I’ve got the phone numbers for every Business Agent in Local 40. Every. Single. One. And trust me, if I don’t hear something soon, I’m making those calls. All of them. One after another until someone gives me a straight answer. Heck, if it comes down to it, I’ll march right down to the hall myself. I’ll walk in there, look them straight in the eye, and demand to know why I’m being overlooked.

I mean, come on. 186th? That’s not even that far down the list. They can’t tell me there are 185 people more qualified than me. How many of them can say they’ve watched videos on traction machines? How many of them have fixed their own garage door opener? Probably none. Meanwhile, I’m sitting here with all this untapped potential, just waiting for the call.

And don’t give me this “rank order” nonsense. If they knew what was good for them, they’d bump me straight to the top. My dad has connections in this trade, and I’m not afraid to use them. This is about fairness, and I’ve earned my shot.

So here’s what’s going to happen. If I don’t get the call within the next couple of days, I’m going straight to the union hall. I’ll show up in person. I don’t care what time it is or who’s there—I will make my presence known. I’m not some rookie who’s going to sit around and wait while these other guys get all the jobs. I’m ready to work right now, and if the union can’t get me out there, then I’ll have to show them how things are supposed to be done.

This isn’t about entitlement—it’s about respect. I’ve earned my spot on that list, and I deserve to be on a jobsite. It’s not my fault they don’t know how to prioritize talent. So, if I have to call the BAs, send a few emails, or show up at the hall, so be it. I’m not waiting any longer. They can either give me the work I deserve or face the consequences.