Telephone solicitor. It was actually a good product. A real product, lol. But it is still a horrible job.
In honor of Labor Day
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Cashier at Woolworth's in `1981, couldn't give the right change. Bank teller Commonwealth Bank 1984, couldn't give the right money. Stock Clerk for the cellar at the Chevron Hotel, King's Cross, Sydney, couldn't keep the right records.
Wasn't it the anniversary recently in America of the Traffic controllers strike where Reagan sacked all the workers and replaced them? After that, workers rights are **** in America.
Oh, lordy. I done that once or twice. Sucks big time.
I was 18, and by day 2 I remember thinking that if I were depressed this job would push me over the edge. Years earlier I had been suicidal, and all the rudeness and insults, call after call. It's got to be one of the most demoralizing jobs in the world.
One of my first jobs was a telemarketer for a lawn care company.....Was not fun.
Not really a job so-to-say as it was volunteer work I did in Wilkes-Barre after Hurricane Agnes. They put me on what was termed ‘dead body patrol.' We had to go to address where people where reported missing by family and friends. We were not allowed to enter the homes, but had to look in as many windows as possible and write down what we observed. Luckily I never saw one, though I did see a number of coffins strewn around the area that came out of the ground from cemeteries. Not really the kind of job you’d think they’d give to 15 year olds.
I would say any job that I currently work at would be the worst. Selling my time is about all I can do to get ahead. I do not think I'll ever be truly free while being economically enslaved.
A summer job at an unemployment Authority . My job was to sort the applicants by the day they was born on and then pass it on to the ones who decided. People born on day 1 to 6 in one pile, 7 to 12 in another and all the way up to 31. So boring, exactly the same thing every day.
How do they do Quality Control, I wonder.........
...... Or product testing.
I'm thinking, wait, I can't put what I'm thinking here or I'll be banned for life...........
Thirteen years old- Angie's Kennel! Yech
I don't want to get into the details during lunch, or ever
!!
I worked at a factory that manufactured riot helmets for police officers for a few months fresh out of high school.
Almost everything was done by hand, and not in a "lovingly crafted" sort of way. We cut plastic and fiberglass with scissors, and installed rivets with a kick-action gadget that Amish folk would be embarrassed to be seen using.
The few pieces of actual machinery were death traps, made worse by the lack of training involved. Later, when I worked in a place that was OSHA-compliant, I was shocked by all the fancy safety type stuff that existed in the world. Not just gloves and goggles, which were a complete novelty, but breathing protection (all the sanding and painting was done in the open in a corner of the room we all worked in, as was all the plastic molding), guards to keep hair, clothing and fingers from being sucked into machinery, rules about who could drive the forklift, where, and how things could be stacked. That was particularly interesting, because many times our workspaces had been defined by giant piles of teetering pallets of gear is various stages of completion, and while you were sitting there a forklift would be going to town behind you moving and shuffling and restacking them like a kid with a pile of blocks.
There were many injuries. I kicked a rivet flush into my thumb; cuts, falls and chemical burns were common. One day, I was adding snaps to chinstraps by hand, and I heard a girl cry out. She'd run an awl through her finger while making holes for the aforementioned snaps to be added later.
I looked at her, and as I looked up the lunch whistle blew. I don't know what made her injury the last straw out of all the nasty things I'd seen and experienced, but I knew I was done. I gathered my jacket, went to my car like always, but instead of grabbing lunch, I went home and never looked back.
I've worked some incredibly sh*t jobs since then, but that is still that absolute bottom of the heap.
Almost everything was done by hand, and not in a "lovingly crafted" sort of way. We cut plastic and fiberglass with scissors, and installed rivets with a kick-action gadget that Amish folk would be embarrassed to be seen using.
The few pieces of actual machinery were death traps, made worse by the lack of training involved. Later, when I worked in a place that was OSHA-compliant, I was shocked by all the fancy safety type stuff that existed in the world. Not just gloves and goggles, which were a complete novelty, but breathing protection (all the sanding and painting was done in the open in a corner of the room we all worked in, as was all the plastic molding), guards to keep hair, clothing and fingers from being sucked into machinery, rules about who could drive the forklift, where, and how things could be stacked. That was particularly interesting, because many times our workspaces had been defined by giant piles of teetering pallets of gear is various stages of completion, and while you were sitting there a forklift would be going to town behind you moving and shuffling and restacking them like a kid with a pile of blocks.
There were many injuries. I kicked a rivet flush into my thumb; cuts, falls and chemical burns were common. One day, I was adding snaps to chinstraps by hand, and I heard a girl cry out. She'd run an awl through her finger while making holes for the aforementioned snaps to be added later.
I looked at her, and as I looked up the lunch whistle blew. I don't know what made her injury the last straw out of all the nasty things I'd seen and experienced, but I knew I was done. I gathered my jacket, went to my car like always, but instead of grabbing lunch, I went home and never looked back.
I've worked some incredibly sh*t jobs since then, but that is still that absolute bottom of the heap.
Neesy
#1 fan (Annie Wilkes cousin) 1st cousin Mom's side
I
I wonder if they let the staff take home samples to try ?
Waitress in college in small restaurant, nasty boss, decided he wasn't going to give myself and a co-worker our checks, which were already late, the afternoon we asked for them he said, "why, you're not going to go cash them". We both walked out the door. Had to take him to small claims court to get my money.