Hardest/Worst Job You Ever Had?

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.

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.

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).

My tim moderating Dawgman was *real* but it was not spectacular.