Comments (43)

1. I once worked for my landlady for a summer because I was unemployed and she apparently needed a certain number of able bodies (I was a skinny little nerd back then) to help her evict people from her properties scattered in the DC Metro area. On the one hand, this job appealed to the side of me that likes to meddle in other people’s business. On the other hand, the heroin needles, crack pipes, and spoiled food I had to deal with destroyed any fun this job could possibly have presented.

   posted by NaechsteHaltestelle on 1-17-2008 at 5:56 am

2. The worst job I ever had was working at a dog track, selling programs. The supervisor was completely insane. She made us count out our cash drawers while she and her toady stood over us watching to make sure we didn’t try to palm a quarter. She was later fired and institutionalized because she snapped and tried to stab her toady assistant with a letter opener.

   posted by Lisa on 1-17-2008 at 6:43 am

3. I had a computer job for two days in 1981 at a long gone company called Ellipse run by this prick named Abe Schwartz where he (Schwartz) said my co-worker said she was being harassed by me (NOT TRUE). The hell of it was I was going to work with this incredible HP desktop box that cost $50,000 and was like a good Pentium NOW about 27 years ago.

   Still, I later got another job and my co-worker still looked exactly like a ten year old boy with long hair. Eww.

   Hey Abe, if you’re out there - die in a fire.

   posted by Terry Smith on 1-17-2008 at 6:53 am

4. How about the worst assignment on a job? In the late 1980’s I worked for an architect, and we were working on a proposal to add additional free-standing crypts inside the oldest mausoleum in Michigan (Roseland Park in Royal Oak). Built in the early 1900’s, there were no original drawings, so I had to investigate the original structure which meant crawling around inside the dirt-floored crawlspace under the mausoleum. Now when a body decays, it liquefies. Where does that liquid go? Guess. There were openings and drainage channels leading up behind each and every crypt (remember, this was the first, and mausoleums are built much differently now). Fortunately for me, the last interment had been many years before, but just the thought of what I was crawling through was enough to put me off eating for a week. Funnily enough, upon returning to the office dirty and disheveled, I encountered a crew filming a local used car commercial in our parking lot (we shared space with a local production company). The plot involved a guy selling his blood to come up with a down payment. I looked so poor and needy that I was put in the backgroung as an extra!

   posted by Greg Steinmayer on 1-17-2008 at 7:14 am

5. I worked a couple of years at a weight-loss center called Trim-Again. The extremely overpriced ’special’ vitamins, the dangerous (ephedra) weight loss pills that went for 125 a bottle when they cost about 5 bux each, the ridiculously high priced and nasty tasting soy supplements I was supposed to hawk like a used car salesman was bad enough. Having to call people at work asking where they were, we missed them, was much worse. Criticizing someone for using margarine when I just got back from a burger joint for lunch was horrible. Jumping up and down ringing bells and shaking effing pom poms when they dropped 1/2 a lb was freaking insane, and required.

   But the worst and most embarrassing for all parties involved: measuring half naked overweight people’s stomachs and thighs. The biggest part. Monthly. And not cringe. And console them if the numbers didn’t change, or heavens forbid, went up.

   I’m all for bettering yourself, and know I could stand to lose some weight and eat better, but this place wasn’t about fitness and wellbeing, it was about money, and I had such relief when I finally walked away…after telling my favorite clients to leave, get out now, before you hand over another 300 dollars for crap. Too bad my sales got the other employees a cruise to the Bahamas.

   May you be cursed with that extra 60/80/100 lbs for the rest of your miserable miserly moneygrubbing life Ruth.

   posted by Jenna on 1-17-2008 at 7:23 am

6. When I was young and ignorant about the negative health effects of lead, I spent a summer making wheel-weights. These are the small, lead weights that are clipped onto wheel rims when you needed to “balance your tires.” I spent the day in a hot pole-building, sitting in front of a flame-heated pot holding about 300 lbs of molten lead, pulling a lever to inject the lead into a mold. I think I escaped any short or long-term consequences of breathing lead fumes for 10 hours a day but… wait, I forgot what I was going to say.

   posted by Bucky on 1-17-2008 at 7:56 am

7. I used to work at a psychiatric hospital part-time during college as a tech. That meant I took vitals, watched patients for “behavioral changes” and basically played babysitter. Not all bad, but I was a 21 year old girl in a locked wing with huge grown male patients and 50-70 year old nurses. I’m sure you can imagine the kinds of things I heard directed toward me. I’m so glad I quit.

   posted by bryn on 1-17-2008 at 7:59 am

8. I worked at a mom & pop car wash back in the day, which wasn’t bad most of the time. Usually, we just sat around waiting for customers. But there were two bad times of the year:

   1) Clean the pit day. did you eveer wonder where all the crap (dirt, bugs, soap, wax, bird mess, etc) goes? Why it goes into a pit that runs the length of the car wash (down the middle, under your car). Once a year, give or take, you remove the metal plates covering the pit, get down in there with a sump (for the liquids) and shovels (for the solids). You’ve never been in such a foul smellin’ environment in your life.

   2) winter - the first sunny day after a snow storm, which happens to only be 10°F, and everybody and their brother come out to get the car cleaned. If you’re lucky enough to be up front, you stand all day holding a power washer, which causes severaly cramped hands, and then enjoy being frozen into a popcicle by all the mist that clings to you. If you are unlucky and are at the tail end drying off cars, have fun. First, you can’t wear gloves because you can’t grip the towels, so your hands are frozen all day. Plus, you get the added benefit of losing your hearing b/c of the blowers running all day.

   By the way, don’t work too hard b/c then you’ll sweat. then the sweat freezes. HELLO hypothermia!

   posted by It's good to be the King on 1-17-2008 at 8:47 am

9. I once worked as a “shop girl” for a tattoo shop. It started off being pretty cool, except for the fact that I was making minimum wage. Shortly after I started, I was subjected to not only crappy pay, but I had to wear skimpy outfits to “entice the male customers”, endure sexually harrassing comments from the owner, and assist one of the tattoo artists with a Prince Albert on a guy who was seriously the same age as my grandfather. I didn’t work there very long, that’s for sure.

   posted by Krie on 1-17-2008 at 9:01 am

10. My first job was at an ice cream store. It was one of those marble slab places where they make their own waffle cones. Well, I was the cone girl. I had to wear a hat with black and white cow prints on it, a cow print shirt, and a white apron with a sappy smiling cow on it. The worst part was that I had to make the cones out in the store, in front of the customers. I had a plexi-glass window in front of me and parents would bring their kids up to the window and point at me. I think that now I have a better idea of how the apes feel at the zoo when little kids bang on the windows of their cages!

    posted by Jen on 1-17-2008 at 9:08 am

11. The worst job that i ever had was working at a shoe store in St. Augustine. It had flexible hours and it paid pretty well but nothing was worth having to come into work and here old lady’s talk about their bunions. You would have to stand there and look interested while a 75 year old lady would tell you why it is so hard to find shoes that fit because her bunion is so big and painful. The worst bunion episode i ever had to endure was when two older women came into the store and started comparing there bunions. One was talking about how hard it was to find shoes that fit (like the normal bunion customers do) and then the other lady says “You think that one is bad? Look at the size of this one.” I had to walk away…

    posted by Daniel on 1-17-2008 at 9:22 am

12. I worked for Humana insurance for a week. Why only a week? Because the first thing they do is hand you this huge book on insurance and make you study policies and blaintantly say “We do not want to give people money! We want to make money!”

    Day 2: I was convinced I worked for the devil.

    Day 3: Someone in my training class got shipped to Iraq and the trainer made a joke about hoping they didnt supply his life insurance.

    Day 5: I accepted a job from another company before noon and handed my boss a resignation letter that read “You people have no soul. I quit as of now before I become just like you.”

    posted by Diane on 1-17-2008 at 9:27 am

13. I worked my way through college while living in Central FLorida. I was a line cook/server and it didn’t pay much. I took a side job (under the table) pressure washing the hoods of restaurant kitchens. I could tolerate most of the grease traps, but the last straw was doing the McDonalds on International Drive and the Steakhouse that used Mesquite on their grill. Three inches of grease and soot made me finally quit.

    posted by Chris on 1-17-2008 at 9:41 am

14. Nursing asst. at a residential facility for the developmentally disabled with multiple handicaps in San Luis Obispo, CA.
    Plus several of the residents were spill over form the local institution for the criminally insane.
    Nothing like trying to get someone on the toilet that’s trying to kill you.
    All for minimum wage.
    Plus most of my fellow workers were there because it was either that or serve jail time.

    It was a shame because the town is beautiful and I’d still be living there if I could have found a better job.

    posted by Sheldon Siegel on 1-17-2008 at 9:44 am

15. The worst job I had was one I took right after college, and stayed for a year and 1/2. It was one of those things where I needed to get something, and no one in my field was hiring yet.

    I worked for a major international credit card company as a Customer Service Account Manager, which sounds fancy, but really means ‘Collections Agent’. I worked with customers who were 30, 60, or 90 days behind, and called them on every available number we had to try to collect payments. I heard more sob stories, more excuses, and got a dose of what the American public is really made of.

    My favorite story, not happening to me, but a co-worker, was when one customer did not want to speak to us, so they had their 4 year old child on the phone. While asking the child if ‘mommy/daddy’ was home, the child informed my co-worker that she was home alone. My co-worker asked for an adult to speak to, thinking she was with a sitter, and the child insisted that she was by herself, and had been by herself all day, and had no idea when the adults would be back and began to cry. In situations like that, we were supposed to call police if the case sounded very serious, so while keeping the child on the phone, another co-worker called 911. The police arrived soon after, and a screaming father quickly got on the phone to yell at the agent for sending the police to the house. The co-worker informed him that there was no reason to yell, considering that his child was on the phone with us for a 1/2 hour telling us that she was left alone with no idea when adults would be back. He informed my co-worker that he was sitting there the entire time, and had no idea we would call the police. Needless to say, my co-worker got the guy to pay the balance in full that evening.

    posted by Amy on 1-17-2008 at 9:48 am

16. My first job out of high school wasn’t necessarily the worst, but it was weird; I worked for a small casket manufacturing company, and my job was putting the finishing touches on the low-end cloth-covered particle board caskets. We had a carpenter in-house who would build them to spec, whether very large or very small; either way it kinda creeped me out very regularly.

    Not long after that I was hired to work in the local meat packing plant; that was the worst. The building is about 100 years old, and the layout is worse than any maze you can imagine. I was assigned to work in the pork cut department, and since I was low man on the totem pole, I got the grunt jobs; clean this up, pick up pieces of meat from the floor, wash that.. The picking up part was easy because most anything that fell to the floor was close to me because “the guys” helpfully threw them at me. After 7.5 hours I had had enough (no, I didn’t even finish my shift); I tracked down my foreman, screamed at him for a bit, and stormed off. Then I discovered I had no idea how to get out of the building. In my rage, I blundered around that accursed place for almost an hour.

    My Dad worked in that place for 42 years, and wasn’t surprised at how things turned out for me. I made good money that day, but it turned out that the other people who were hired the same day as me were laid off about two weeks later, so not much of a loss.

    Another thing that bothered me about that short-lived job was the heavy-handed union tactics; I live in a right-to-work state where you’re not required to join a union, but the guys there made it clear that signing the card was in my best interest. It was a very blatant shakedown. Also, earlier in the day I had been handed a set of knives and a chain-mail glove that I would be using; soon after they were given to me some helpful guy offered to get them sharpened for me, but I never saw them again. The company deducted $75 from my check for that. 27 years later and it still makes me mad.

    posted by Dave on 1-17-2008 at 9:49 am

17. Internet Tech Support Call Center

    ‘Nuff said.

    posted by Kelly on 1-17-2008 at 9:53 am

18. Like Jenna, I worked for a weight loss company. Actually it was several sleezy companies under one umbrella and I actually ended up working 2 jobs simultaneous within 2 of the companies during the time I was there (which at 6 months was 6 months too long).

    They had weight loss seminars which was supposed to help you lose weight with hypnosis, but was actually just a big set up for selling the “product” from the other company. Good old ‘weight loss’ pills that were huge and contained everybody’s favorite now banned drug, ephedra.

    You could of course return the product if it didn’t work for you (or if you didn’t freak out from taking these horse sized pills 3 times a day), but they only refunded for unopened bottles. I can remember going to the post office and picking up boxes upon boxes that were returned (and most people never got their money back).

    Also, there were weekly “lunch” meetings which were all “rah rah”. Now I’m all for inspiring your employees, but this was ridiculous and over the top. Sadly, some people believed in it (while the President of the company laughed his way to the bank). It was all about working hard and bettering yourself. Stay after work to attend our seminars. (Seriously this was encouraged).

    Then the poor receptionist had to read inspiration quotes over the PA system once an hour. I KNOW she loved that.

    Then you could send a thank you or something like that over the PA system. It was not uncommon to hear: Susie would like to thank Beth for helping her out with the filing. You’re the best. Have a great day.”

    You think I’m making this up? I swear I’m not.

    The VP of one division tried to get everyone to go to his church to be saved.

    The “doctor” who was quoted on one of the bottles of weight loss pills was the CFO of the company (and a PhD, not an MD).

    I could go on and on, but you probably wouldn’t believe any more.

    posted by beth on 1-17-2008 at 9:55 am

19. Putting myself through university, I worked on a HUGE turkey farm. Every egg the hens laid was tracked – we had to print the bird’s tag number on each egg with a marker when we collected them. Already, not a great job but it gets better (worse).

    The birds were free to walk around in large cages – about 20 birds to a cage. Along the front of the cages were 10 small cages and the birds were trained to enter the cage when they felt the “urge” to lay an egg. The door flipped shut behind them so they couldn’t get out until we did a collection run every half hour or so and tracked the bird’s number on the egg.

    Guess how they got trained to go into the cages? That was my job too (a two-man job actually)…it involved going into the large cages on a regular basis when a new shipment of birds came in, rounding them up and checking each bird with a rubber glove you-know-where. If an egg was there, we pushed them into the smaller cages so they eventually got conditioned/trained to go in by themselves when they had to lay an egg.

    Talk about a s*itty job.

    posted by Sheila on 1-17-2008 at 10:28 am

20. The worst job (as I’m only 19 and haven’t had too sucky of an experience yet) has to be retail — but not for all the usual reasons. In fact, I rather enjoyed selling stuff to people. The problem was, as always, location, location, location. See, I worked at a store called Hollister — that’s right; loud music, dim lighting, and a cologne smell to make you dizzy ALL DAY. So, after my olfactory glands had been burned away, I got used to working there. I sold more, helped more, and was generally quite a good employee. Then I found the secret shopper pages. See, every month they have a “secret” (totally obvious) shopper come in from corporate and rate the store. Highly rated stores earn managers points which they can turn in for nifty gifts like jeeps and airline tickets to random places (south Dakota, anyone?). Upon seeing this sheet for the first time, I read through it and stopped, in horror. Printed on the sheet in a section for tallying up points was the phrase: People working the front room are
    a) for 1 point, good enough looking to be in a movie or magazine.
    b) for 1/2 a point, average.
    c) for 0 points, not good looking.

    I was shocked. I knew everyone in the retail business probably practiced some form of the same thing, but to blatantly discriminate based on looks was not something I could endorse. I immediately walked to the back room, told my manager I couldn’t work for a company that ripped peoples’ concepts of self-worth to shreds, and never went back — I didn’t even pick up my last paycheck. Yeesh, that place is EVIL!

    posted by Will on 1-17-2008 at 10:31 am

21. I once worked at a manufacturing plant that made things (not critical things mind you) for use by the government.

    Problem is, they hardly ever made them perfectly to spec and it was my job to inspect them and my boss’ job to sign off on the inspections before sending them on.

    We were (literally) told to measure an entire roll of product until we found one section that would be in spec then put it down as passing.

    I also had the duty of regulating all of the ISO standards in the company, which was another headache altogether.

    When I started having dreams about horrific accidents occurring in the plants and me having to shoulder the blame, I left. I couldn’t handle the lying.

    My exit was perfect timing, though. Within two months, my boss left for another job and my replacement became the department head, signing off on all those out of spec government papers.

    posted by Jennifer on 1-17-2008 at 10:34 am

22. These are amazing. Will: wow. Are you for real?

    posted by David on 1-17-2008 at 11:12 am

23. When I was in my mid twenties I had a perfectly AWFUL job. I worked at a convenience store/gas station, and it wasn’t the work itself, the customers, the low pay or even the danger of working at a stop-and-rob that made it so bad–it was horrible because of my fellow employees and my bosses, a married couple who owned the store.

    There was only one other employee I liked–a woman a bit older than me, and she and I were the only employess with kids. Most of the other employees were teenage party-animals who had no kids (and that included the owner’s two-snot-nosed brats), yet the two of us with kids had to work EVERY SINGLE holiday, so, while the teenage brats got to go out and party with their friends on holidays, we had to be away from our kids.

    The owner’s snot-nosed brats were often left in charge of the store while the owners were away, and so I had kids who were about 15 YO and on a power trip abusing their “authority” and making ridiculous demands of me.

    The manager and I caught a teen stealing magazines one night, and we called the owners about it. When they got there he was still in the store. We pointed him out and they were furious…with US! It turns out that the kid was best friends with their son, and therefore they were angry that we would accuse him of shoplifting.

    We had to count up our tills after every shift and balance them against the receipts, and since every employee was responsible for his/her own till and could face consequences if the till was off, the rule was that each employee had their own till for all of the shift, and NO OTHER employee was allowed to touch it. That makes sense so if the till is off they would know for sure who is accountable. But that rule was NEVER followed, and I couldn’t keep other employees out of my till! I reported this to the owners and they said not to worry about it…yet my till was always off when I was working with certain employess, and guess who got chewed out for it–yep–ME, even though my till was always dead-on accurate when those certain employees weren’t working with me.

    My manager was having an extra-marital affair with one of the employees, and she would show up when he was working my shift and they would go in the back room and get it on. I was told that I had to keep watch and warn them if the owners showed up, and I also had to do the manager’s job. However, I couldn’t do any job that required me going into the back room, of course, where they were getting their jollies, or any job that required me to get too far from the front windows, as I had to see if the owners pulled in. So I couldn’t complete many of the jobs I had been assigned, and yep, the owners blamed me for that too.

    That’s just a SMALL list of the horrors I faced on that job!

    posted by older and wiser on 1-17-2008 at 11:54 am

24. Just out of high school in the early 90’s I got a job fixing fuel tank leaks on commercial aircraft L1011’s, 747’s, 737’s etc.

    The only prerequisite for this job was the willingness to climb into a freshly vented fuel tank, which would then be sealed and put under a vacuum so you could spray soapy water around and see where your leak was.

    There was a bay on the DC-8 known as the coffin bay which had a lot of leaking problems and was really fun to climb into, good thing I didn’t have claustrophobia.

    It wasn’t all bad though, one time we stopped at the bar after work, about a 1/2 hr later the fire dept. showed up as someone had called to report a gas leak. Ah… good times.

    posted by Kevin on 1-17-2008 at 11:58 am

25. Youth Litter Patrol Crew Leader, no lie. I worked a summer supervising four high schoolers picking up trash along I-84, as well as some other highways, in Eastern Oregon. This wouldn’t have been so bad, except, as supervisor, I had to drive the van AND pick up trash with the kids. Try picking up trucker bottles full of pee and trucker sacks full of yes, you guessed it, for ten hours a day in weather that’s at least 100 degrees while wearing leather boots and reflective clothing, never knowing whether or not some truck or car is going to hit you because you are walking alongside a FREEWAY!
    In addition, my boss never trained me, he said my crew would tell me what to do. Everything they said to do was wrong, and so I ended up having a meeting with the boxx at least once a week about everything I was doing incorrectly. My crew was surly and lazy. One of our worksites was two hours away, which I had to drive to while they slept. There was no CD or cassette player in the van, and most of the areas we worked had no radio reception. I also lived a half an hour away from headquarters, so I had to get up at 4:30 every morning just to make it to work. The highlights of my summer were finding two dollars alongside the road, as well as a day pass for a prisoner from Idaho. I really wondered what his pass was doing all the way in Oregon…

    posted by Manda on 1-17-2008 at 12:02 pm

26. @ Will - That doesn’t suprise me at all. At the business school I attended there was a joke — with some truth in it — that most of the successful (read hired after graduation) Marketing Majors had been cheerleaders in high school. Why? because companies want energetic, good-looking people to hawk their products, AND if they’re in a male-dominated field they want energetic, good-looking women. One of the reasons I’ve been hitting up the gym more than I ever have in my life is because I’d like to utilize the marketing side of my degree — and sexist outrage aside, to be a salesgirl you first have to look like a salesgirl.

    The modern saleswoman is the Southwest stewardess of the 21st Century.

    posted by Ashley on 1-17-2008 at 12:04 pm

27. I worked at a recycling center one summer in college, sorting cans and bottles. Like the smoke issue for the author, I could not get the stink of old soda, beer and tin cans out of my clothes hair and nose after work. I literally threw up every day for two months. The smell was so difficult to get out of my clothes I started wearing the same t-shirt and jeans to work everyday, washing them out in the bath tub. At the end of my last week, I went home, changed clothes and tossed the old ones into the dumpster. I couldn’t drink soda for years afterward.

    posted by Michael Dillon on 1-17-2008 at 12:07 pm

28. How about dressing up in an anti-contamination suit (think lots of yellow plus little plastic booties and a clear plastic helmet) with a supply hose supplying air and going into a giant tent made of plastic to dismantle the plutonium glove boxes that were used to build the first bomb?

    /One sentence!

    posted by Moon on 1-17-2008 at 12:13 pm

29. BTW, if you are wondering what a “Prince Albert” (from #9 Krie’s post)is, just do a GOOG, not a GIS.

    Sheesh.

    posted by Moon on 1-17-2008 at 12:17 pm

30. When I was legally allowed to collect a paycheck (I forget when this was, there’s some law about cashiers) my parents got me this job at a restaurant in a flea market. I generally cleaned, filled nacho trays and loaded the dishwasher. Sure.

    What made this job craptacular was that I worked with my parents and since I was getting a ride from them I had to wait in the parking lot for their shifts to end– so there went my entire weekend. The absolute worst was that every time I did something wrong, being a dumb newbie, I’d never find out about it until the end of the day. See, my boss and my rat bastard stepfather were all buddy-buddy and thus criticism went directly to *him*.

    Do you know how frustrating it is when your boss won’t say a word to you, maybe just smile and wave at you, and then I guess rip you to pieces behind your back? What, did he think my stepfather was going to whip me for not stacking the plates fast enough?? I’ll bet that dork thought so.

    When I got a better job (an internship at an engineering company through my school, yay) my stepfather says to me: you better take *this* job seriously.

    Earl, I hope a violent sado-rapist finds you.

    posted by Andie on 1-17-2008 at 12:50 pm

31. A triple tie for worst job: hospitality hostess (hospital tray passer), fast food worker at sonic, and market research interviewer.

    posted by Tamara on 1-17-2008 at 12:57 pm

32. My first job was at a pizzeria. The job wasn’t all that bad, because we would get discounts on pizzas, and we were allowed to make custom pizzas. Imagine a pizza with 10 pounds of cheese and other assorted toppings on it! Haha.

    There were a lot of things that sucked about it though… Let’s see… the customers that would finish half the pizza then bring it back for a refund, complaining they didn’t like it… the wage that was below state AND federal minimum because I was in “training” (who needs to train for a pizza place?)… and going home smelling like garlic and anchovies… Probably one of the few times in my life when pussy would follow ME home… Haha!

    posted by kevin z on 1-17-2008 at 1:05 pm

33. I worked at a Starbucks on my college campus for about 4 years, and honestly I don’t know why I stayed as long as I did. To be completely fair to Starbucks, it was actually licensed and run by the school, which is why they were fully able to treat us like crap. Aside from the bad pay (I made only 1.50 more than minimum wage as a Supervisor) and the lack of tips, there was one pretty bad incident.

    Two of my close friends were working one morning, when the campus police came in and handcuffed them on the spot, in front of the humongous rush of students and faculty. Turns out (*gasp!*) the girls had been making free drinks for each other, and “oversampling” the food items. Its maddening enough to note that at any other Starbucks, this practice would not only be allowed but encouraged. So anyway, my friends were arrested, had to go to court, ended up on some kind of probation, and had it not been for a “regular” higher-up faculty member, would have been kicked out of school.

    The rest of us essentially were threatened with our jobs, and if I didn’t need the money so bad, I would have quit with the rest of them.

    posted by Lauren on 1-17-2008 at 1:33 pm

34. I took so many terrible jobs while in my 20’s trying to “find myself”.

    Off the top of my head, one of the worst had to be working for a clinical research clearing house that was collecting data for a new diabetic ulcer drug.

    A little history is in order: Diabetics are prone to foot ulcers due to poor blood circulation and inactivity. These ulcers are basically open wounds on the bottom of the feet, weeping and disgusting. As part of the study, doctors would trace the ulcers on a plastic wrap (Saran Wrap)to get the overall size. They would then send the tracing to our offices so we could track the changes in size.

    On my first day, bright and early, I was told I would be analyzing the data the doctors sent in.

    I was led to a room that only had a wash basin and another door leading out of the room. I was instructed to wash my hands thoroughly, which I did. I was then told to put on a pair of surgical gloves and not touch ANYTHING once they were on. I put them on, the other door was opened for me, and I was led into the room. The trainer that was with me stopped short, not entering the room I was now in the middle of. I turned to ask why I needed the gloves, and the response was “Dibetics often contract Tuberculosis, and since the “data” I would be analyzing (the foot tracings) had come into direct contact with open wounds, there was a chance I could contract the disease. “Oh, by the way, don’t touch your face or any other body part while you are in this room, or until you have scrubbed out. We don’t want you to come down with something. If you need to use the restroom, use your (covered) elbow to hit the call button, and someone will show up to let you out of the room.”

    Before the trainer had shut the door behind me, I hit the call button and met them at the door, asking to be let out. I stripped off the gloves and marched out of the building, never to return.

    I think I showered twenty times over the course of the next two days.

    posted by Icetrey on 1-17-2008 at 2:52 pm

35. I was a telemarketer in high school. for 8 months. selling life insurance.

    there’s nothing quite like being yelled at, cursed at, hung up on and preached to at least once each in the course of a five hour shift.

    and we had to give our full attention to the calls, even though it was rote by the fourth day, which meant that puzzles and books weren’t allowed. very boring.

    the most interesting part was watching the nutty old ladies who had been doing it for years…

    never, ever again…

    posted by the creature on 1-17-2008 at 3:15 pm

36. I quit my job at the Jerry Springer Show after a pregnant woman attacked me backstage. She was mad because she thought her husband would pick her over the high school girl he had ALSO gotten pregnant. You can’t really fight back against a pregnant woman. I had to stand there taking her punches until Steve pulled her off me.

    Also, I had to lie to the high school girl that she even WAS pregnant. She asked to see me right before the show started taping and told me she wasn’t sure if she was still pregnant. I was confused, since I had talked to her earlier in the week and she said she was with child. She told me that the day before she had visited a doctor and that he had “taken care of everything.” It took me a second to realize she telling me she had gotten an abortion.

    I would have been fired if this chick had admitted on camera that she was no longer pregnant, so I got her to take a pregnancy test (I had a million of them in my desk, along with tons of fake engagement rings - awesome office supplies). She peed on the stick, I looked at it and told her that I guess the abortion “didn’t take,” because she was still pregnant. She was so happy.

    I quit later that day. I’ll never forgive myself for making this poor girl think she was still pregnant.

    Wow, that felt kinda good to get off my chest.

    posted by Anastasia on 1-17-2008 at 4:11 pm

37. I worked in a porn shop, renting and selling movies and selling sex toys. That was not a bad job at all. Actually, it paid well, was a lot of fun, and I met a lot of cool people doing it. However, one of the guys I worked with had the world’s worst job. The store I worked in had booths in the back where people (99.9% male) could go and watch a variety of videos for a quarter a minute. It was also a popular gay pickup spot.

    The worst job was not a cashier, as I was. I abused a fair amount of hand sanitizer, but that was nothing compared to the guy we hired to clean up the booths. Yes, he was a jizz mopper. He got 8 bucks an hour to clean all the *ahem* emissions off every surface in the back. I’d only ever poked my head back there once in the 6 months I worked there and I instantly regretted it.

    The worst thing was that this kid constantly was bugging the manager about when he was going to get promoted to cashier. The manager didn’t tell him that he had no intention of promoting him–it was hard enough to find one guy willing to do that job!! So he was stuck. I wonder if he’s still there, wishing and hoping for that promotion…

    posted by Mandy on 1-17-2008 at 4:56 pm

38. In college, I worked for a grad student doing research in “swine waste management”. My job was to collect 30 pounds each of fresh liquid and solid waste, mix them in a barrel using an electric drill, and measure correct portions of the mixture into test containers. But at least I was paid $1.50 an hour.

    posted by David on 1-17-2008 at 5:01 pm

39. Worst job (not worst boss or worst co-workers, those are completely different stories: Ice Cream Truck Driver. I did this for one week to help out a friend, and never again. The truck was a huge old delivery truck that didn’t have power steering or a/c, would not go over 45 mph (and I did have to go on the highway sometimes to get to the little hick towns where I was told to sell), and only one very ineffectual rear-view mirror (the one on the driver’s side.

    Besides that, the freezer wasn’t hooked up to the truck, so the ice cream had to be kept cold with dry ice 9and that stuff hurts if you’re digging around in it for ice cream.) The truck was black, so it was like a huge furnace.

    When you got to a neighborhood, you had to drive literally 5mph so kids could catch up to you, and circle the block two or three times. The horrible ear-splitting and mangled version of “Pop-goes-the-weasel” wold ring in your ears for hours afterwards. People living in the neighborhoods hated you, and half the time kids would run up with no money, expecting ice cream anyway.

    Worst part was, I was technically a “contractor” (this was all totally under the table, you see) so I got paid a percentage of what I made. And it was so hot and boring, I ate up all my meager profits in ice cream.

    posted by frumpiefox on 1-17-2008 at 5:27 pm

40. I was the “Charmin Girl” as people called me. I had a stand at various places and I’d ask people to take the Charmin Challenege. They would stick their hand into two holes in a box containing toilet paper, and they would tell me which was softer. Then I would reveal which one they picked. I would then reward them with a coupon for toilet paper. Unfortunately at one point, the place I was set up in didn’t carry the particular variety of toilet paper that the coupon was for.

    Did I mention several people did the “Charmin Bear Dance” for me?

    posted by Angeline on 1-17-2008 at 6:53 pm

41. My first job was working in a pizza place in the food court in the mall. It was the longest four days of my life. I received no training of any kind. The girl I worked with sat on the back counter where they made the dough and smoked all day. Not to mention that she would ash in the mixer. Seriously. The manager sold a pasta salad that was about 2 weeks out of date. The customer came back to us right after he finished throwing up.

    Good times.

    posted by Pearl on 1-18-2008 at 10:58 am

42. I once had a job working in a factory removing lawnmower blades from a box manufactured in Korea and then placing them in a box with a John Deere log on it and stapling it shut. I started at 5:30am and the whole place smelled like grease. When I went to lunch even my food tasted like there was grease in it.

    On the third day before going to break I stopped by my supervisor’s desk and told him I was going to lunch. He looked at me strange and said “Okay?” Then I said “Well I ain’t coming back.” Then he thanked me and said he appreciated me letting him know since most people just walk out and he never hears from them again.

    posted by Jadey on 1-18-2008 at 11:39 am

43. I read power and gas meters for a state utility company for two years during college. I went into yards to record the numbers by hand, then often ran back out when the dogs came.

    Over those two years I managed to narowly avoid angry homeowners, protective dogs, a very violent ram, and a home literally covered in peacocks. They sat on the roof and would jump down and bleat at me, trying to peck my shins (I assume, they never got close enough). I finally quit a week after I was bitten in the hand by a dog and - without being aware of it because of serious shock - drove myself all the way to the hospital bleeding profusely. I only have vague, fuzzy memories of how I managed to get there.

    Of course they went to radio transmitted meters shortly afterwards. I think I broke some streak the company had going for most days without an accident too.

    That was a fun job.

    posted by spinthelights on 1-21-2008 at 10:09 am

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