Hardest/Worst Job You Ever Had?
Summer of 91, I just graduated and was about to go into the Army but my dates got pushed back so old man Nacho set me up with a job at Gai’s bakery (now Franz bakery) in the sanitation department.
A couple of chinteresting tidbits: mom, dad, both brothers, an uncle, and 2 cousins all worked at Gai’s bakery at some point over the course of 50 years. I don’t think I had a job in high school that wasn’t set up by one of my parents.
On to the story....
My first day at work was a Saturday in August starting at 5 am. I was hungover from a party the night before and had no idea what this job entailed. I arrive and meet the other guy on the shift; he’s going to train me and today is his second to last day before going back to school at UW.
First part of the job, go into the basement of the giant factory bakery were there are 30+ mini dumpsters full of yeast infested dough that has fallen on the floor during the baking process and take a shovel to scoop up anything that’s fallen out. At about 7am, a dump truck arrives and the 2 of us are pushing these dumpsters in front of the truck to get emptied.
Let me tell, you don’t want to walk into a room of 30+ containers of yeast infested dough when you’re hungover from drinking Olde English the night before. Those 2 things don’t mix very well.
Next part of the job, go through the bakery with a shitty flat bed cart to collect barrels of discarded product that’s fallen off the assembly line. (The barrels were probably 55 gallon capacity) The flat bed part of the cart was about 18” off the ground and the barrels had no handles. Then tar the cart with barrels to a dumpster shoot. Lift the barrels off the cart over a 4 foot wall to empty the contents but not drop the barrel. Repeat this process 30 times.
My second day was Tuesday (the bakers were off Tuesday and Saturday which was when we worked). Show up expecting another day with the UW guy only to have my supervisor tell me UW guy decided to quit early and that I’d be on my own for an hour but a new guy was coming in and I’d be training him.
Thank God I left for basic training 6 weeks later.
Comments
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In the Summer of 81, I did not play baseball, hoping that the rest would be good for my arm (it didn't matter, it was shredded). I went to work for my best friend's older brother. He and a buddy had started a waterbed factory and showroom. It was hot, dirty work, covered with sawdust, stain, lacquer and sweat. Overtime was paid in beer and pizza (looking back, beer and power tools do not mix very well). About two weeks in, the showroom was open, and they needed someone to deliver and set up the beds.
A quick survey of the shop determined that out of a half-dozen workers, I was the only one with a valid driver's license (more on that later). So I became the set up guy. The charge was $20, with a tip often included, that went to me. I got so good at it that from knocking on the door to hose- in -mattress took about 20 minutes. I would do anywhere from 8-12 on a given day. One of the benefits besides the dough, was it kept me in great shape.
One day, late in the summer, I and another guy had to drive a U Haul trailer from EWA to Bellevue with a load of beds for a shop in an old house on Bellevue Way, just south of downtown. We ran out of gas at the bottom of Snoqualmie pass, and had to hitch-hike to the truck stop east of North Bend.
Their store charged a case of beer for set up, so there was a shit-load of brew when we got there. After a few beers, somebody busted out a joint, yada-yada. We asked about a place to eat, and they pointed us to the Pump House. After a couple beers with dinner, I had to drive back, because my "co-worker" passed out. The best part of the trip for me was that at the Pump House, we sat at the bar, and I looked up at one point and was looking at Dean Vernon Wormer, at the end of the bar (no sign of Mayor DePasto, or Mrs. Wormer)
The guys I worked with were sketchy as shit. My pops worked with one of their dads. I found out later that father and son robbed a couple of banks and disappeared, presumably to Mexico...
At the end of the Summer, I decided to shelve thoughts of "taking a year off from school", and suddenly sitting in boring classes didn't seem to bad...csb -
Bucked bales trying to get in the pants of a hottie. Her sister was married to a big wheat farming family and young Throbber's testosterone-infested brain logic'd out that any face time was better than no face time. Plus it paid some ridiculous amount - like $100 per day which was crazy money in the early 80's.
That was some bullshit. Forearms broke out with hives. Eyes were glued shut and red. Hay fever, couldn't breathe.
Lasted two days. Done. She wasn't worth it.
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Sounds like you couldn’t FINISH.PurpleThrobber said:Bucked bales trying to get in the pants of a hottie. Her sister was married to a big wheat farming family and young Throbber's testosterone-infested brain logic'd out that any face time was better than no face time. Plus it paid some ridiculous amount - like $100 per day which was crazy money in the early 80's.
That was some bullshit. Forearms broke out with hives. Eyes were glued shut and red. Hay fever, couldn't breathe.
Lasted two days. Done. She wasn't worth it. -
Just go read the @89ute trial and tribulations thread and you have my worst job. Only mine was worse, because it was the exact same job frying chicken, but not at a fancy KFC. In the 80s there was this huge outdoor flea market in Arlington, TX - not sure if it is even still around. So, they had food service and like 30 different places to eat at this place. One of them was the Cluck-n-Bucket (Tommy Boy stole it from us) and that is where I worked. I didn't have fancy things like air conditioning like that pussy @89ute had. I spent the summer of 86 over deep fat fryers all day in the 100 degree Texas sun. I wanted to die. Best day of my life was when, after a couple months, I got promoted to pizza maker at the Pizza Shack because the only guy at the pizza shack quit and the three girls who worked there said they couldn't lift the huge frozen bricks of cheese out of the freezer. So, it was me and three girls flirting all day with them on the registers and me flinging pizzas. Quite a step up from the Bataan Death Marchesque experience at the Cluck-N-Bucket.
p.s. I banged the back out of the one of the register girls at the Pizza Shack on the reg. Her name was Jessica. Unreal 16 year old hard body and a face to protect it. Not my finest moment from a face perspective, but had an ass you could crack an egg on and C cups that quite literally pointed up they were so firm. I'm not sure why this post became about some hot bodied Texas blonde with a snaggle tooth, but it did, so fuck right off. -
Bataan Death March Pizza would be an interesting restaurant name experimentSwaye said:Just go read the @89ute trial and tribulations thread and you have my worst job. Only mine was worse, because it was the exact same job frying chicken, but not at a fancy KFC. In the 80s there was this huge outdoor flea market in Arlington, TX - not sure if it is even still around. So, they had food service and like 30 different places to eat at this place. One of them was the Cluck-n-Bucket (Tommy Boy stole it from us) and that is where I worked. I didn't have fancy things like air conditioning like that pussy @89ute had. I spent the summer of 86 over deep fat fryers all day in the 100 degree Texas sun. I wanted to die. Best day of my life was when, after a couple months, I got promoted to pizza maker at the Pizza Shack because the only guy at the pizza shack quit and the three girls who worked there said they couldn't lift the huge frozen bricks of cheese out of the freezer. So, it was me and three girls flirting all day with them on the registers and me flinging pizzas. Quite a step up from the Bataan Death Marchesque experience at the Cluck-N-Bucket.
p.s. I banged the back out of the one of the register girls at the Pizza Shack on the reg. Her name was Jessica. Unreal 16 year old hard body and a face to protect it. Not my finest moment from a face perspective, but had an ass you could crack an egg on and C cups that quite literally pointed up they were so firm. I'm not sure why this post became about some hot bodied Texas blonde with a snaggle tooth, but it did, so fuck right off. -
I'd have to think about my worst job ever. But for my first job, I was in high school. My dad was a CPA for a development corporation, and he got me a summer job at a construction site hauling trash and whatever other labor was needed.
First day on the job, I work for forty-five minutes in the hot sun, and then feel thirsty so I wander off and find a hose and start drinking from it. My new boss asks me what I'm doing. I tell him that I'm thirsty and I'm drinking water. He tells me that this can be done on my break time. I tell him if he's not going to let me have water when I'm thirsty then I'm not going to work for him anymore. And I walked off the job. Didn't even make it through the first day.
Weeks or months later, my dad tells me, "Son, I must say that you embarrassed me a bit. I pulled some strings to get you that job, and you didn't even last one day."
Yes, I was a colossal idiot. -
So would Banging Snaggle Tooth Jessica on the RegularDerekJohnson said:
Bataan Death March Pizza would be an interesting restaurant name experimentSwaye said:Just go read the @89ute trial and tribulations thread and you have my worst job. Only mine was worse, because it was the exact same job frying chicken, but not at a fancy KFC. In the 80s there was this huge outdoor flea market in Arlington, TX - not sure if it is even still around. So, they had food service and like 30 different places to eat at this place. One of them was the Cluck-n-Bucket (Tommy Boy stole it from us) and that is where I worked. I didn't have fancy things like air conditioning like that pussy @89ute had. I spent the summer of 86 over deep fat fryers all day in the 100 degree Texas sun. I wanted to die. Best day of my life was when, after a couple months, I got promoted to pizza maker at the Pizza Shack because the only guy at the pizza shack quit and the three girls who worked there said they couldn't lift the huge frozen bricks of cheese out of the freezer. So, it was me and three girls flirting all day with them on the registers and me flinging pizzas. Quite a step up from the Bataan Death Marchesque experience at the Cluck-N-Bucket.
p.s. I banged the back out of the one of the register girls at the Pizza Shack on the reg. Her name was Jessica. Unreal 16 year old hard body and a face to protect it. Not my finest moment from a face perspective, but had an ass you could crack an egg on and C cups that quite literally pointed up they were so firm. I'm not sure why this post became about some hot bodied Texas blonde with a snaggle tooth, but it did, so fuck right off. -
Swaye said:
So would Banging Snaggle Tooth Jessica on the RegularDerekJohnson said:
Bataan Death March Pizza would be an interesting restaurant name experimentSwaye said:Just go read the @89ute trial and tribulations thread and you have my worst job. Only mine was worse, because it was the exact same job frying chicken, but not at a fancy KFC. In the 80s there was this huge outdoor flea market in Arlington, TX - not sure if it is even still around. So, they had food service and like 30 different places to eat at this place. One of them was the Cluck-n-Bucket (Tommy Boy stole it from us) and that is where I worked. I didn't have fancy things like air conditioning like that pussy @89ute had. I spent the summer of 86 over deep fat fryers all day in the 100 degree Texas sun. I wanted to die. Best day of my life was when, after a couple months, I got promoted to pizza maker at the Pizza Shack because the only guy at the pizza shack quit and the three girls who worked there said they couldn't lift the huge frozen bricks of cheese out of the freezer. So, it was me and three girls flirting all day with them on the registers and me flinging pizzas. Quite a step up from the Bataan Death Marchesque experience at the Cluck-N-Bucket.
p.s. I banged the back out of the one of the register girls at the Pizza Shack on the reg. Her name was Jessica. Unreal 16 year old hard body and a face to protect it. Not my finest moment from a face perspective, but had an ass you could crack an egg on and C cups that quite literally pointed up they were so firm. I'm not sure why this post became about some hot bodied Texas blonde with a snaggle tooth, but it did, so fuck right off.
If we're going to bash snaggle tooth blondes, I'm out.
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That's pretty much Jessica but Jess had a bigger nose. Great body that only 16-17 year olds can have though.PurpleThrobber said:Swaye said:
So would Banging Snaggle Tooth Jessica on the RegularDerekJohnson said:
Bataan Death March Pizza would be an interesting restaurant name experimentSwaye said:Just go read the @89ute trial and tribulations thread and you have my worst job. Only mine was worse, because it was the exact same job frying chicken, but not at a fancy KFC. In the 80s there was this huge outdoor flea market in Arlington, TX - not sure if it is even still around. So, they had food service and like 30 different places to eat at this place. One of them was the Cluck-n-Bucket (Tommy Boy stole it from us) and that is where I worked. I didn't have fancy things like air conditioning like that pussy @89ute had. I spent the summer of 86 over deep fat fryers all day in the 100 degree Texas sun. I wanted to die. Best day of my life was when, after a couple months, I got promoted to pizza maker at the Pizza Shack because the only guy at the pizza shack quit and the three girls who worked there said they couldn't lift the huge frozen bricks of cheese out of the freezer. So, it was me and three girls flirting all day with them on the registers and me flinging pizzas. Quite a step up from the Bataan Death Marchesque experience at the Cluck-N-Bucket.
p.s. I banged the back out of the one of the register girls at the Pizza Shack on the reg. Her name was Jessica. Unreal 16 year old hard body and a face to protect it. Not my finest moment from a face perspective, but had an ass you could crack an egg on and C cups that quite literally pointed up they were so firm. I'm not sure why this post became about some hot bodied Texas blonde with a snaggle tooth, but it did, so fuck right off.
If we're going to bash snaggle tooth blondes, I'm out. -
I had a job with a swimming pool company in Tulsa and after the back hoe the finishing dig was done by hand with shovels by a chain gang without the chain. In 90 degree weather with 100% humidity.
I was on the line in a dirt pool hotter than hell when the owner asked who wanted to run the warehouse. The cool, shady not digging with a shovel warehouse. My hand went up and out the door I went
I was always lucky at getting pulled from the labor pool to run the company.
This guy was a piece of work. With a hand gun in one boot and a roll of cash in the other -
Champs Sports in the mall. Nothing about it was particularly horrible other than having to deal with an endless stream of people, mostly dumb, all day long. Once had a guy come in who looked like a pimp, and probably was one. He had me doing laps to the back while trying on shoes...must have tried on 20 different pairs. Of course he ended up buying none. Overall just a miserable job and the one-hour loop of crappy 1999 - 2000 pop punk rock didn't help. Only took the job to try and work with a hot blonde I went to high school with (no pics) and I don't think I ended up sharing shifts with her more than twice in the three months I lasted.
Also worked at Puetz Golf on Aurora. The amount of hubris associated with failed 30-somethings who sold golf apparel and could shoot 10-over was mind blowing. I quit that job after two weeks.
Retail sucks.
The jobs I had in warehouses and on production lines during my college years were much more enjoyable and the people were mostly honest, hard workers. That was before the great purge of all the PNW Tuff Liberals, though. -
I had one of those bullshit, boiler room sales jerbs once trying to make 90 calls a day type crap. Lasted 3 months and quit. I need the soft sell, Glenn Gary Glenn Ross leads or I’m fucked.
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YellowSnow said:
I had one of those bullshit, boiler room sales jerbs once trying to make 90 calls a day type crap. Lasted 3 months and quit. I need the soft sell, Glenn Gary Glenn Ross leads or I’m fucked.
https://youtu.be/lGGV9VX7kqQ
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lol I worked at petsmart for 3 weeks. Needed to get 600 bucks fast and they were the first place that called back.
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I was a message bored moderator at Dawgman
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I did inbound tech support in a call center for awhile. Fortunately I wasn’t tier one and my call volume wasn’t too bad, but it wore me down.
It wasn’t the customers either (though every once and awhile you got a grade A prick) it was management - they timed you on your calls in addition to evaluating them, and that added an unnecessary layer of pressure. Some people need more hand holding to work through their issue so we’d all cringe if it was a “needy” account on the line.
Plus, I hated the pre-canned script they forced us to use for troubleshooting. It was all very de-humanizing.
But even that gig wasn’t too bad. In hindsight I’ve been very lucky with the companies I’ve worked for and the positions I’ve held. I know what truly hellish jobs other people do. -
Retail is very challenging. And I paid my dues there too.BleachedAnusDawg said:Champs Sports in the mall. Nothing about it was particularly horrible other than having to deal with an endless stream of people, mostly dumb, all day long. Once had a guy come in who looked like a pimp, and probably was one. He had me doing laps to the back while trying on shoes...must have tried on 20 different pairs. Of course he ended up buying none. Overall just a miserable job and the one-hour loop of crappy 1999 - 2000 pop punk rock didn't help. Only took the job to try and work with a hot blonde I went to high school with (no pics) and I don't think I ended up sharing shifts with her more than twice in the three months I lasted.
Also worked at Puetz Golf on Aurora. The amount of hubris associated with failed 30-somethings who sold golf apparel and could shoot 10-over was mind blowing. I quit that job after two weeks.
Retail sucks.
The jobs I had in warehouses and on production lines during my college years were much more enjoyable and the people were mostly honest, hard workers. That was before the great purge of all the PNW Tuff Liberals, though.
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I was going to make a "moderator of a hobby board" joke, but DNC beat me to it.
My first job was picking raspberries. Working the fields was the only job you could do before you were 13 or something, so the kids my age lined up to do it. I don't remember what hours I worked other than it starting at some ungodly time in the morning and going until the U-pick opened. Rasperries have got to be the most difficult produce to pick. They're super fragile, so it's hard to be fast. We were all set off with a shallow bucket, and we'd come in and have that bucket weighed and loaded into flats, then back out with another bucket. I was picking for $.27 per pound. Know how many raspberries are in a pound? All of them, that's how many.
I worked ALL summer in the hot ass sun, all that kept me going was visions of that check I was going to get when it was all over. I was planning all of these things I was going to buy (I think a Walkman was top of the list). At the end of the summer, being one of the better pickers there, I was handed a check for $42.
That was the moment I lost all interest in growing up to be a responsible adult and earning an honest living. That day, another fast strategy kid was born (RIP DDY). -
I've run a couple retail operations.
Fuck employees.
That's all I can say. FUCK EMPLOYEES.
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I worked fast food off and on for years. It's hard work and demeaning. I'll take retail over that.
Door to door stuff can be pretty bad. I've never done it long term.
There's nothing worse than having a bitch's hand in your pocket. Listen to Leykis. I see the hot single chicks complain about bills on social media. You aren't conning me out of my hard earned money sweetheart. I'll bet your ex is paying vaginamony. Fuck that noise. -
The summer after college football was invented. I was living in my dads' NorCal basement and contemplating transferring out of Gas Pump U because Cal had accepted my pore academis ass for the Winter semester as a transfer. My dads' neighbor ran the local Coors distributor and he asked me, a twenty year old without a fake ID, if I wanted to work in beer. It seemed like the path of least resistance to kill time until January and it would still be another year until I turned 21.
The job, Tuesdays through Friday the job entailed fixing broken palates of beer. Or essentially pulling out unbroken bottles out from packages where someone had ran a forklift through them. Then repackaging them with other beers that had met the same fate, finding enough of them to make a new case, and then sending them off into the world as if nothing had happened. Sometimes I had gloves to do this. Other times, the forklift drivers stole my gloves and I had to stick my hands into broken glass barehanded. On Mondays when everyone else was off, I washed the entire fleet of delivery semis. There were perks. I learned how to be an unlicensed forklift driver, one of the drivers was the drummer in Zak De La Rocha's high school band and introduced me to new music, and I was usually able to smuggle out enough beer for me and my underaged friends undetected.
But still sometime around Labor Day, I made the decision that life as a gas pumper wouldn't be as bad as this and told that job to piss off.
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Worked in a call center for an automotive finance company.
Nothing like talking to people from a script. It is so below anyone with an IQ above 50. Actually called my beard and was in tears on the way home one time. People that are judging you/grading your calls that you wouldn't let water your grass.
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Worked the door at Bananas tavern in Fremont. It is a Greek restaurant now.
Taking $2-4 dollars per person and all the pissing and moaning for usually $2 drove me nuts. I used to let lots in who said they would pay next time - mostly people like work on the boats like on the Deadliest Catch. Basically guys that could and probably would make my face into pulp. So I let them in.
Made more money at the door than they had ever made before which amazed me - just hated dealing with drunks all the time, should have felt sorry for those guys as I was an obnoxious drunk myself.
At 2 AM I had to go across the street to the Too High tavern and get the nights receipts then back to the Bananas gather both places take for the night. No body guard, just me strolling around Fremont at 2 AM. Safety first slogan comes to mind. Only once got jumped and knew the guy he was a customer I wouldn't let in - he was so drunk I was able to knock him over and get indoors and lock the door.
Got fired after eating spaghettajuana one night before coming to work. Did not know it at the time, after pigging out was told they replaced oregano with about (this one dates me) a $10 lid of weed. I walked from upper QA across the Aurora Bridge then down to Fremont. I remember crawling quite a ways - traffic and height was kind of scary. Made it to work, can't remember much but after an hour they had to replace me at the door. -
OT but I was at some party in Ballard in about 2005. I think it was just more just 5 or 6 of us at 3 am or something. I was never a pothead but I did smoke at the time. I took a hit off some really weird fucking contraption the druggies up there invented. I was on a really bad trip for about 18 hours. They may have laced it with something.I think it took about 30 until it totally wore off. I swore off weed about 9 months later and tried to grow up. Sort of.
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It was a one day job. Moving doors into a new condo complex in Seattle. It was one floor, 4th, if I remember correctly. You would be shocked on how many doors are on one floor. Took us all day, plus the fire doors were a bitch, and this was when I was in shape and young full of piss and vinegar. Sucked. Finally, to add insult to injury, there was no water on the site. The water was still "test water" and milky, not drinkable. Double sucked.
I think I spent half the money I made that day on food after I was done. -
During an internship me and three other interns had to move individual carpet squares to the second floor in a new 90'000 square foot building one day and it was a monster. I can imagine the doors were miserable.alumni94 said:It was a one day job. Moving doors into a new condo complex in Seattle. It was one floor, 4th, if I remember correctly. You would be shocked on how many doors are on one floor. Took us all day, plus the fire doors were a bitch, and this was when I was in shape and young full of piss and vinegar. Sucked. Finally, to add insult to injury, there was no water on the site. The water was still "test water" and milky, not drinkable. Double sucked.
I think I spent half the money I made that day on food after I was done. -
Senor Manuel Labor es estupido.alumni94 said:It was a one day job. Moving doors into a new condo complex in Seattle. It was one floor, 4th, if I remember correctly. You would be shocked on how many doors are on one floor. Took us all day, plus the fire doors were a bitch, and this was when I was in shape and young full of piss and vinegar. Sucked. Finally, to add insult to injury, there was no water on the site. The water was still "test water" and milky, not drinkable. Double sucked.
I think I spent half the money I made that day on food after I was done. -
Some epically awful stories in this thread
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My tim moderating Dawgman was *real* but it was not spectacular.1to392831weretaken said:I was going to make a "moderator of a hobby board" joke, but DNC beat me to it.
My first job was picking raspberries. Working the fields was the only job you could do before you were 13 or something, so the kids my age lined up to do it. I don't remember what hours I worked other than it starting at some ungodly time in the morning and going until the U-pick opened. Rasperries have got to be the most difficult produce to pick. They're super fragile, so it's hard to be fast. We were all set off with a shallow bucket, and we'd come in and have that bucket weighed and loaded into flats, then back out with another bucket. I was picking for $.27 per pound. Know how many raspberries are in a pound? All of them, that's how many.
I worked ALL summer in the hot ass sun, all that kept me going was visions of that check I was going to get when it was all over. I was planning all of these things I was going to buy (I think a Walkman was top of the list). At the end of the summer, being one of the better pickers there, I was handed a check for $42.
That was the moment I lost all interest in growing up to be a responsible adult and earning an honest living. That day, another fast strategy kid was born (RIP DDY). -
Yeah, but I thank Allah for every shitty job I ever had. Builds character and all that.DerekJohnson said:Some epically awful stories in this thread
Do kids these days have shitty starter jobs? I thought I read somewhere that’s on the decline.
