Inspired by the First Jobs thread.
Mine was as a p/t office dogsbody for an engineering company in Ipswich. Deffo the worst I ever had. Held responsible ofr everything that did or didn't happen but with no power or authority to make things happen or stop them happening. The most put-on and the lowest paid in the company and the lowest in the pecking order, but I was meant to pay the bills, invoice the customers, do the payroll and have all the credit card receipts organised with the credit card statements for when the company's accountant came round (horribly bossy woman) when the directors would throw their credit card receipts on the floor of their car and then tread on them with muddy boots and it was my fault if the were not presented in pristine condition. The nicest thing those zeebs ever did was to sack me.
"Working" software has only unobserved bugs. (Parroty Error: Pieces of Nine! Pieces of Nine!)
Seriously: If you value it, take/fetch it yourself
Comments
It's also where I picked up the shoulder injury that's basically ruined my enjoyment of sports and gigging for the rest of my life.
However, the one that sticks in mind is when I worked as 3rd line application support for an animal food distributor (distributing to farms). It wasn't the ancient technology (DEC Alphas running VMS), and it wasn't the luddite customers (they were actually surprisingly nice). It was my boss, his boss and the general asshattery of the entire management team. I almost came to blows with my boss on three separate occasions, and he absolutely hated me (the feeling was mutual).
I'll never forget the day I handed in my notice, though. It was supposed to be my crowning glory - I called my boss and his manager into the server room for a bit of privacy, and handed them the letter. "Oh, I guess this is your request for a raise..." says my boss and his manager gave a smug smirk. I just stayed silent and they read it. Both of them looked like they were going to cry, which totally threw me for a loop. I was all braced for a massive row, possibly a small amount of violence, and most likely an attempt by them to physically march me off the premises.
What I got was an extended begging session.
It was weird.
Sadly I suppose my current job warrants a mention in here too. It feels like I’m constantly battling unattainable targets with insufficient or inappropriate resources in inadequate timeframes.
I’d always thought “stress” was a myth or someone being too thin skinned or something...
Not anymore, my sleep, mood, appetite and family relationships have been affected. It can’t go on like this for much longer.
So yeah - mine was a series of office jobs at an organisation that nearly ended me (although there was a lot going on in life generally) . And I say that as someone who used to make sausages for a living - picking out the pigs scrotums from the mix and throwing them at the old boy butcher was a daily routine, he used to respond by putting sheep's eyeballs down the back of my shirt. Simple pleasures.
But one time I was given the job of cleaning hospital equipment (monitors etc) which didn't sound too bad. Until I got asked to help clean the soiled hospital mattresses. I couldn't clean the ones full of shit, I couldn't stop gagging.
Only did that job for 3 days luckily.
Other than that, I worked with my uncle fitting refrigeration in supermarkets.
Long hours
No sleep
Poor diet
No social life
I earnt decent money (decent for an 18 year old at the time) but I lost out on a lot due to working there. Luckily I will never go back to that.
EDIT I am now earning more than the MD of that dreadful engineering company was getting paid at the time. Can't say I enjoy the job I'm doing now as much as I'd like to but at least I'm getting paid for it.
Seriously: If you value it, take/fetch it yourself
Another shit job was industrial painter at Cyadimid in Fareham. Duties there included freezing your arse off dangling 30 foot in the air trying to spread rubberised paint over frozen pipes, climbing into tanks wearing breathing gear to needle gun off the rust and getting high painting the inside of lift doors with aforementioned rubberised stinking chemical paint
Oh and painting all the pillar boxes in London in the mid nineties .... over 600 of them, most on one way systems and places you couldn't park the van. Spec was rub down, prime bare metal parts, 2 pink undercoats and 2 coats of red gloss. Sod that I used to sweep the dirt off and gloss the bastards .... long as I kept ordering undercoat I got away with it. Trouble was eventually I had 68 cans of pink undercoat in my hallway and still had to order more. I did undercoat one, it was in Wapping but I never went back and glossed it so for a while London had at least one pink pilla box ... I've often wondered if it ever got glossed.
Another example of this community being brilliant and supportive... in amongst the jokes about Jayne Mansfield and her lobsters.
I volunteered for anything that would get me away from my desk. I became a union rep, a live patient for the first-aid courses, I'd get stationery for everyone on the team (and take hours doing it), take urgent mail to other departments and take the long way round. I even once deliberately trapped myself in a lift by fucking about with the doors. After three years of that (and continually applying for other jobs), I landed the cushiest job ever - a clerical assistant to the union office. I would turn up late more often than not, fiddle my hours, take 2h lunches every day in the bar, play computer games all day, have a nap on the bed in the unused medical room next door. Nobody gave a shit and we were in an isolated part of the site so it was basically money (crap money though) for doing fuck-all all day every day.
As great as that sounds, it soon becomes wearing. The pointlessness of your 'working' day, the near zero achievement, the lack of any sense of accomplishment or worth quickly took its toll and I left for a proper job just four years later.
Chips are "Plant-based" no matter how you cook them
Donald Trump needs kicking out of a helicopter
I'm personally responsible for all global warming
I lasted one shift, I've never worked with such a bunch of thick bastards, sub normal grunts that were smashing parcels for fun that were obviously xmas presents.
Silver lining was that at the end of the month I got a payslip for £849. Clearly the wages dep were a bunch of thick bastards too.
Worst gig ever. I lost count of the number of microwave ovens I had to move. Not to mention the refrigerators. And don't even get me started on the colour TVs.
I shoulda learned to play the gee-tar. I shoulda learned to play them drums...