You can feel it start. Somebody leans on the crate and says, “You hear what he did yesterday.” The story grows legs. By lunch it has a name, by dinner it has a villain. The weld did not get cleaner. The fit did not get tighter. The only thing that moved was your attention, and attention is what keeps us safe.

Gossip is a cheap high. Makes a slow hour feel busy. Makes a hard day feel easier for five minutes. Then it costs you. It costs trust. It costs patience. It costs the focus you need when a lift swings or a reading changes and the radio crackles. I have watched good crews slide because they talked about people more than they talked about the work.

You know what lives under most gossip. Fear. Boredom. Pride. A bad call someone does not want to own. A boss someone does not want to face. We pour it into stories instead of saying the thing that matters. “We missed staging.” “I do not understand the print.” “I am tired and not tracking.” Those are fixes. Gossip is not.

Keep it simple. If the story is not yours, leave it alone. If the story is about a miss, take it to the person who can fix it. Face to face. “That gasket was wrong. I caught it. I am swapping it. Heads up so you are not walking into the same trap.” Short. Useful. Clean. The room gets quieter when you talk like that. Quieter is good.

There is a line between a heads up and a smear. A heads up helps the next hand make a better move. A smear makes you feel bigger for a minute and smaller by dark. You can hear the difference. One sounds like work. The other sounds like high school in hard hats. We are not fifteen. We are here to feed families and go home in one piece.

If you lead, you set the tone without a speech. People copy what they hear from you. If your radio voice is calm and your shop talk is short, the crew follows. When a rumor hits the crate, steer it to the fix. “What do we need for the next step.” “Who is staging.” “Where is the spec.” The story dies when the plan shows up.

I am not saying swallow everything. If someone is dangerous, you speak. If someone is out of line, you speak. You use names and you keep it straight. “He walked past a loose guard and called it fine.” “She keeps skipping repeat backs on the valve calls.” That is not gossip. That is the kind of truth that keeps people breathing. Say it once, to the right person, then get back to the steel.

The road is already heavy. Long drives. Cold rooms. Missed birthdays. You do not need drama in your own cab on top of all that. When the group chat turns into a roast, set the phone down. Go fill the water jug. Wipe your hood. Check your leads. Call your kid. You will not miss anything worth keeping.

New hands watch everything. They learn how we talk before they learn how we weld. If all they hear is noise, they will think that is the job. If they hear, “Stage this,” “Read that,” “Root in by nine,” they will think the job is the job. Which it is. Teach them with your mouth shut and your hands busy. That lesson sticks.

There have been days I wanted to unload on someone. I was hot. I had a line ready that would have landed. I kept it. Later I was glad. The weld still passed. The inspector still signed. The phone still rang next week. My name did not get smaller over a story that would not have helped me buy a single gallon of gas.

If you need to vent, find one good hand and talk off to the side after shift. Say your piece and park it. Do not bring it to the rack in the morning like a stray dog that bites everyone who walks by. We earn our days twice. Once with our work, once with our words. Make the words light.

You are out here to provide. To get home safe. To keep your name clean so the next gate opens. There is no paycheck in gossip. There is no safety in it either. Keep your eyes on the fit. Keep your voice for the radio. Keep your head for the parts and the plan.

Let other people feed the rumor mill. You feed your family.

Respect.