Had a job as a moderator at a workout website called T-Nation…just kidding.
Working on a furnace line making suspension parts for transport trucks…great money but hot beyond belief in the summer.
I worked a couple of months at a carwash once. Aside from the harsh chemical solvents for cleaning rims, and the fact that I was the only guy who hadn’t just gotten out of prison, the thing that sucked the most was how un-fucking-believably slowly the time passed. We were open from 8:30 - 5:30 and you’d think you had been working four or five hours and you check the clock and it was only 9:15. It was winter, and being outside and slightly damp all day was no fun either.
I grew up on a farm, and aspects of it sucked ass.
Doing hay in the summer. My allergies would go crazy, you get these tarry thick boogers in your nose, even up in your sinuses, and hay chaff gets everywhere. So sneezing tarry boogers, itching the chaff into my arms, and 100’s of little puncture wounds on my chest and shoulders made for looong summers.
When my dad finally leased a round baler from the dairy farm up the road I nearly cried in relief, no BS. I took a job at a christmas tree farm after the round baler came into our lives wich was a really good job to have in the summers.
Installing new fence posts around the pastures. Never ending and monotonous, having plenty of time to plan my brothers’ demise and attempting to execute that plan at days end was my only respite. He was 5 years older and was a true dickhead on those jobs.
Castrating and de-horning calves. You’re bound to get kicked, stepped and shit on. We didn’t have a fancy stansion to lock them in so Dad would send me into the pen to tackle calves and keep them pinned down till he could band the balls and burn off the horn nubs. Man, I can still hear those cows bawling and slobbering and shitting all over the place.
Hauling rocks. Every spring when the frost would let up the fields would be littered with “field stones” that would be hell on the plows and discs used to manicure the ground for planting. So we’d walk up and down the fields, being followed by my dad in the tractor and tossing rocks into the front-loading bucket for what seemed like eternity.
The best part about being on the farm was making money. My brothers and I made enough money off of beef to buy our first cars, clothes, dog food for the hunting dogs, guns, ammunition, fishing gear… All the fun stuff.
Tim Horton’s for 8 days.
Telemarketer for a year and a half
This summer I expedited and carried food to our restaurant hundreds of feet from the kitchen. 16 plates to an oval at a time. I now have something I never knew existed, balance. But on top of that the Sous Chef was retarded and the restaurant was packed. Mistakes happened every 2 minutes. And being the guy holding the food meant it was all my fault, every time.
Attention was split between not dropping food and watching for mistakes like a hawk so it wouldn’t be your balls on the line. Good pay though and got to live in staff acomm.
Oh and chafing… Corn starch is a miracle worker.
None of these compare to some of your job’s though.
I do grunt work for a construction company. Basically I clean up foreclosures that are completely and utterly trashed. If it’s not disgusting work, i.e cleaning out houses filled to the brim with cockroaches, it’s just stupid hard labor. About a month ago I had to do yardwork and trashout(pick up all the fucking junk that people someone manage to collect) for this one house and it was just stupid.
The guy had about 20 engine blocks lying in random places in his backyard, there was about 5 coaches, a bunch of other car parts and log and log from some tress that he cut down. Not to mention he had just a ton of board and wood and chairs and just a bunch of other shit all over the place.
I just hate having to work 9 hour days during the summer where it’s 110 going around a yard picking up someone else’s heavy mess.
I’ll second the northern Canada oil rig job.
Hard as hell physical labour for 12 hour shifts, the bonus of working in either freezing cold, or blazing hot temperature. A massive engine roaring and pumping out heat, which made it only slightly better in the winter, and much worse in the summer.
The coworkers were the worst though, of three different shifts that I worked on, only one wasn’t full of idiot dirtbags. Playing practical jokes while moving 400-800lb pieces of pipe, coming in severely hungover, possibly still drunk for a shift. I get agitated just thinking about some of those tools.
The money was great, but I figured I didn’t need to pay off my student loans that quickly.
Masoner’s helper was a close second. Hard as hell work, 10 hour shifts, and similar coworkers to the rigs. Only thing that made it better was the fact that I didn’t have to worry about getting killed or maimed.
On the office work side, articling student at a CA firm. I don’t know about how other firms operate, but it was soul crushing. We had to keep track of time spent on a 3 minute basis. And god help you if you spent 5 minutes drawing up a letter instead of the agreed upon standard of 3 minutes.
Anyone complaining about Mcdonalds and the like have no idea about what a real shit job is like. My highschool Pizza Hut job was heaven in comparison.
My worst job was supposed to be the least physical - one college summer I managed/lifeguarded at pool. Part of the neighborhood was section 8 where you had a lot of mentally challenged people who came to swim, which was fine, except that I had a couple teenagers who didn’t give a shit watching the pool when there was people who actually needed to be watched swimming… so it was just ridiculously stressful.
Oh, and one day it rained for like a week straight and the duck pond near my pool flooded, INTO the pool. Showed up the next day and it looked like bay water in the pool. And of course none of my lifeguards wanted to help out, so I was up there for 2 weeks busting my ass to clean it up.
[quote]MusselQuest wrote:
Blockbuster Video.[/quote]
yep, i hated it there. only bright spot was free rentals each week. otherwise, awful.
[quote]BradTGIF wrote:
I grew up on a farm, and aspects of it sucked ass.
Hauling rocks. Every spring when the frost would let up the fields would be littered with “field stones” that would be hell on the plows and discs used to manicure the ground for planting. So we’d walk up and down the fields, being followed by my dad in the tractor and tossing rocks into the front-loading bucket for what seemed like eternity.
[/quote]
Forgive the question from the ignorant city-slicker, but where in the hell did the stones come from? Only thing I can think of is that the frost caused them to heave out of the ground. But after a few years, the ground has got to be pretty free of stones down to the frost-line, no?
[quote]Dr. Pangloss wrote:
BradTGIF wrote:
I grew up on a farm, and aspects of it sucked ass.
Hauling rocks. Every spring when the frost would let up the fields would be littered with “field stones” that would be hell on the plows and discs used to manicure the ground for planting. So we’d walk up and down the fields, being followed by my dad in the tractor and tossing rocks into the front-loading bucket for what seemed like eternity.
Forgive the question from the ignorant city-slicker, but where in the hell did the stones come from? Only thing I can think of is that the frost caused them to heave out of the ground. But after a few years, the ground has got to be pretty free of stones down to the frost-line, no?
[/quote]
We learned about this in geology!
Basically along the lines of as a glacier melts in the summer the rocks just slide down the smooth surface and once all the frost/ice is gone you just have a bunch of random stones. Pretty cool stuff.
Wearing Daisy Duke ho shorts while walking around Astro-World amusement park (got torn down last year I think but was a Six Flags franchise) carrying a broom and dust pan.
Mind you, I had skinny little legs back then so I was embarrassed to be in shorts all of the time to begin with and the broom basically just sealed the deal as far as me getting no phone numbers (and thusly no ass) for that WHOLE fucking summer.
I quit the day it rained while I was carrying a giant trash bag filled with funnel cakes and cigarette butts down the stairs of the biggest fucking roller coaster ride in Texas (the Texas Tornado)…and the bag busted open…and everybody but me thought it was fucking hilarious.
I think I stayed in school just so I could avoid being like some of the near 30-somethings on staff who did that as a career choice.
My first law firm. Screaming, incompetence, missing deadlines, bitchy coworkers, cussing, personal attacks, throwing books, and the main partner’s unwelcome erection.
My good friend is finally handing in her resignation there. I’m thinking about trying to go back. FML.
[quote]Dr. Pangloss wrote:
BradTGIF wrote:
I grew up on a farm, and aspects of it sucked ass.
Hauling rocks. Every spring when the frost would let up the fields would be littered with “field stones” that would be hell on the plows and discs used to manicure the ground for planting. So we’d walk up and down the fields, being followed by my dad in the tractor and tossing rocks into the front-loading bucket for what seemed like eternity.
Forgive the question from the ignorant city-slicker, but where in the hell did the stones come from? Only thing I can think of is that the frost caused them to heave out of the ground. But after a few years, the ground has got to be pretty free of stones down to the frost-line, no?
[/quote]
I had thought so too, but I know some farmers that have owned the same land for over twenty years, and are still out there every year.
[quote]pushmepullme wrote:
My first law firm. Screaming, incompetence, missing deadlines, bitchy coworkers, cussing, personal attacks, throwing books, and the main partner’s unwelcome erection.
My good friend is finally handing in her resignation there. I’m thinking about trying to go back. FML. [/quote]
What makes an erection welcome?
I just want to know for future reference because goodness knows I don’t want any to be unwelcome by accident.
In fact, the most pleasant response a guy can possibly get for having an erection may just be “Thank the stars above, THAT is a welcomed erection!!”…of course stated with much groaning and light screaming.
[quote]Doug Adams wrote:
I worked at a trapshooting range between the ages of 13-16. Most of the time was spent in the concrete bunker trap house where I manually loaded clay pigeons on the machine that sent them downrange. While that machine didn’t spin fast enough to take off fingers, if you were too slow to get your hand free it would sting for a good while. [/quote]
Damn, this was going to be mine. Our machines had a remote button to trigger the throwers, and some of the pricks there would hold down the button so that it never stopped to reset.
Second would be making eyeglasses. oh the monotony.
[quote]fraggle wrote:
Dr. Pangloss wrote:
BradTGIF wrote:
I grew up on a farm, and aspects of it sucked ass.
Hauling rocks. Every spring when the frost would let up the fields would be littered with “field stones” that would be hell on the plows and discs used to manicure the ground for planting. So we’d walk up and down the fields, being followed by my dad in the tractor and tossing rocks into the front-loading bucket for what seemed like eternity.
Forgive the question from the ignorant city-slicker, but where in the hell did the stones come from? Only thing I can think of is that the frost caused them to heave out of the ground. But after a few years, the ground has got to be pretty free of stones down to the frost-line, no?
I had thought so too, but I know some farmers that have owned the same land for over twenty years, and are still out there every year.[/quote]
It keeps going for some reason, I figure it had to diminish at some point. Back many years ago, farmers blamed Satan for depositing rocks in their fields, which would break their plows in the spring. If you go up to quaint New England, notice the stone walls surrounding farms, all built from “field stones”. That’s where the name came from.
BG
One job I had was a flood technician for an insurance restoration company. One project was a Chinese restaurant that had a leaky sewer pipe in the kitchen sink drain. The pipe had been leaking heavily for most of a year and had partially filled up a series of crawl spaces under the restaurant with putrid, semi-gelatinous liquid. I had to go into the dark crawl spaces with a hose and suck up the liquid. The rooms never reached a height of more than three feet and were about one third filled with the disgusting sewer water. There were over 30 small rooms that were interconnected by two feet square holes that I had to climb through with the suction hose.It was extremely claustrophobic.
The job took three weeks and the worst came one day when the generator which supplied electricity to power some exhaust fans which supplied some fresh air and the lights ran out of gas. My partner, who should have been outside ready to fill the generator with more gas, has snuck off to smoke a joint. I had to find my way in pitch black climbing through those two foot holes through eight interconnected rooms before I reached the door to the outside.
I was ready to kill my partner for that. I still think I probably should have.
[quote]wisefit wrote:
One job I had was a flood technician for an insurance restoration company. One project was a chinese restaurant that had a leaky sewer pipe in the kitchen sink drain. The pipe had been leaking heavily for most of a year and had partially filled up a series of crawl spaces under the restaurant with putrid, semigelatenous liquid. I had to go into the dark crawl spaces with a hose and suck up the liquid. The rooms never reached a height of more than three feet and were about one third filled with the disgusting sewer water. There were over 30 small rooms that were interconnected by two feet square holes that I had to climb through with the suction hose.It was extremely clautrophobic.
The job took three weeks and the worst came one day when the generator which supplied electricity to power some exhaust fans which supplied some fresh air and the lights ran out of gas. My partner, who should have been outside ready to fill the generator with more gas, has snuck off to smoke a joint. I had to find my way in pitch black climbing through those two foot holes through eight interconected rooms before I reached the door to the outside.
I was ready to kill my partmer for that. I still think I probably should have.[/quote]
Damn,
That’s my nightmare right there. Did you have to wear respirators or have the spaces cleared by gas free engineers before you went in there? I could imagine that methane buildup or other noxious gasses from bacteria must have been a concern?
I work in mental health and I love my job, but I have had some shitty experiences (literally). I’ve had to wipe a 30-year-old, 280lb man’s arse and also had to bathe him after he diarhhoeaed himself. It was the single most disgusting experience of my life. It was in his shoes, his socks, up his stomach, matted in his pubes…how I didn’t throw up I don’t know.
[quote]Badunk wrote:
I work in mental health and I love my job, but I have had some shitty experiences (literally). I’ve had to wipe a 30-year-old, 280lb man’s arse and also had to bathe him after he diarhhoeaed himself. It was the single most disgusting experience of my life. It was in his shoes, his socks, up his stomach, matted in his pubes…how I didn’t throw up I don’t know.[/quote]
haha my friend passed out at a party in 8th grade and shit himself with similar results. It was trampled all over the carpet and he had shit inside his pockets.