Don’t Be George – Volume 3: I Used Brake Cleaner to Wash My Hands

Filed under: That burning sensation means you’ve made a mistake.

If you’ve ever looked at a can of industrial solvent and thought, “Eh, close enough,” congratulations—you’re halfway to being George.

This week’s field journal entry involves a mystery spill, questionable reading comprehension, and a chemical reaction that lit up the job site (and George’s hands) like a Christmas miracle no one asked for.

Let’s take a walk through the fumes.

The Setup: Grease, Goo, and One Terrible Decision

So there George was—just another day on the job. His gloves were coated in a mystery sludge that may have been hydraulic fluid, old coffee, or some kind of mutant epoxy no one was willing to claim.

Rather than change gloves like a sane person, George did what George always does: improvise. He dug around in the truck, found a can labeled “Cleaner,” and went to town.

One problem: it was brake cleaner. The super-concentrated kind that comes with 18 warning labels, three flammable icons, and a skull.

The Moment of Enlightenment (and Combustion)

According to eyewitnesses (and a burn mark on the tailgate), George hosed his bare hands down with the stuff like it was a garden sprayer full of lavender-scented wet wipes.

Then he rubbed his hands together. Vigorously. As if friction was going to help.

Within seconds, he was coughing, gagging, and flapping his arms like he was trying to take off. His skin turned blotchy. His gloves melted slightly. The apprentice screamed, “Why does it smell like sadness and rubber?!”

The chemical soaked into his pores. His hands have had a glossy sheen ever since.

What George Said Next:

“I thought ‘brake’ just meant it worked fast.”

We’re still not sure if he was joking.

The Aftermath: Handprints and Hazmat

The safety team was called. The foreman walked over, saw the scene, and immediately asked, “What did George touch?”

By the end of the day:

The tailgate was quarantined.
The gloves were double-bagged and burned.
George was told if he used anything from the shop fridge as “cleaner,” he’d be exiled to the recycling yard.

Here’s What We Can All Learn From This Flaming Dumpster of Logic:

Read. The. Label.
Cleaner ≠ safe. If there’s a flame icon, a skull, or a warning in more than one language, maybe don’t put it on your body.
Job sites are not chemistry labs.
You are not Walter White. Don’t mix or misuse chemicals just because you “didn’t want to waste a trip to the trailer.”
Just swap the gloves.
Seriously. They cost less than the ER bill. And your skin.
Always ask before spraying mystery cans.
Or better yet, make it a policy that if George reaches for any aerosol, someone stops him. With force if necessary.

Final Thoughts from The Lumber Whisperer

George once again turned a minor inconvenience into a full-blown safety incident using only a single can of brake cleaner and the unwavering confidence of a man who thinks PPE stands for “Probably Pure Enough.”

The scary part? This wasn’t the dumbest thing he did that week.

So take this as your sign to double-check that label, wear the gloves, and ask yourself one question before acting:

Would George do this?

If the answer is yes... wash your hands properly. With soap. Not solvents.

Next Up: Volume 4 – “I Built a Workbench Out of Pallets and Pride”
Spoiler: It didn’t survive the lunch break. Neither did George’s sandwich.

Let me know if you want promo copy, visuals, or a printable “Approved Chemical Use” poster featuring George’s sad, shiny hands.

Nailed It! Tales from a Construction Newbie

Volume 3 – “I Used Brake Cleaner to Wash My Hands”