The worst jobs I have had:
Bartender
This was a bad job on a couple of levels for me since I don't drink very much, have never been a party sort of girl, and knew junk all about mixing drinks. Not that that mattered much, because they were mostly oil rig workers, and all I really needed to know was how to open a beer bottle or pour Kahlua in a morning coffee for the alcoholics that pounded on the door and demand to be let in before the place was opened. They were nice guys though as long as the liquor held out - always trying to buy me drinks, telling dirty jokes and tipping me $.25 since that was all they had left.
Door to Door Hospital Canvasser.
If you want to be emotionally abused, get a job canvassing for a worthy cause. I think people enjoy being mean to canvassers. It's kind of like watching boxing, maybe. You get to take out your pent up anger in a socially acceptable manner. No one likes people who ask for money for nothing. The funny part was that I was fantastic at the job. I always brought in the most money in my group because apparently I'm good at sincerity and begging. People seem to prefer that to slimy, fast talkin' money grabbers. Who knew?
Youth Worker
This weekend I was punched, kicked, slapped around, threatened, and close to being stabbed. I like my job. Really. But I also like my face with two eyes, and I'm not crazy about mopping up pee and poopy toilet paper. Or boogers. Hate the boogers.
Pizza Maker.
Hot, greasy, demoralizing. But, I came out of it knowing how to toss and catch pizza dough like a good Italian girl. No. I'm not Italian, but I could be, now.
Weed Puller.
I was eighteen. Needed money. The thistles were taller than I was and the sun was hot like hades.
Substitute teacher.
Hey, you all remember what it was like when a sub walked into class.
There are more. Lots more. I've been in school for so many years that I could paper my bedroom with all the throw away jobs on my resume.
You?
And now, my darling reader(s), I'm going to bed, 'cause this ain't really a holiday for me.
And goodnight.
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9 comments:
Oh yes the sweet jobs that have kept us busy, amused and fed. Dusting videos, being a caregiver to those with disablities, teaching, managing teaching assistants and more teaching. I have been fortunate that all my jobs have shaped who I am and made me a better person with the exception of dusting videos (although I do keep a fairly dust free house these days). I am also thankful I did not have to work at jobs I would be completely useless at. I am most thankful that I am supported by a very hard working partner who allows me to stay home and care for our son. While I do love holidays this is my least favorite one as it is way too close to the start of school. Happy Labour Day to you!
Worst job for me (though best-paying from my younger years... so there is a gold lining!):
Cleaning out the summer cadet residential barracks at an army camp (you may recall the infamous Ipperwash Army Camp a la George Dudley fame.) I did it for two summers, but it was the grossest you can imagine. Bored cadets and bathrooms... you can imagine, I'm sure. But I saved some sweet cash.
The worst job I can remember was prescribed by my mother... does that still count? I was payed a pittance! Cracking two grocery bags full of walnuts. Grandpa had a couple of trees and would give them too us. Killed my fingers - first accidently bashing them with the hammer and then picking the flesh out from the crinkles and cracks of the shell. Urgh. Hadn't she heard of nutcrackers???
My worst job? PIcking blackberries at a farm. Had to be fast, pick only the best berries, and wear long sleeves in the heat to keep the scratches to a minimum.
I'm sure there must be something worse that I've done which my mind has chosen to block it out......
:-D
karen, i forgot about you and the video store. ha. you must have got to watch a million good movies for free though?
jodi, grooooooooss. it better have been sweet. ick.
cecily, damn walnuts. they make my tongue puff up.
cherie, i just went to a u-pick with india for her birthday. i thought it would be fun, but i felt like a character from the grapes of wrath: mean owners. hot sun. not allowed to eat the fruit...i kept looking for a turtle trying to cross the dusty road.
Definitely 'chicken tosser' as a teen. When the local chicken farmer was preparing a 'new brood' for sale via mail order, he'd hire a few of us to help get the massive shipments ready. To protect the chicks against the Maine weather, they were kept in the huge cellar of the hatchery. I'd go down a ladder to where the yellow critters were wall to wall atop several inches of crap, dead chicks, and associated bugs living in the crap. Once there, I'd catch the fuzzballs and toss them up to 2 guys with fish-nets until the cellar was emptied of live chicks. This usually took 10-12 hours of steady work. For some reason, we never considered breaking for lunch. YUCK!!!:)
ewwwww, mike. you win, hands down.
I worked in the warehouse at the cable company, fetching the parts that the techs would need on their calls.
well, hello there dan!
i'm so glad you stopped by.
hmmmmm. cable company, huh? i hope you at least got to drive a forklift. forklifts look like fun.
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