mathjak107
Give me a museum and I'll fill it. (Picasso) Give me a forum ...
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worst job ,managing a tall man shop in tokyo
WORST JOB
- Thread starter mathjak107
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HFWR
Give me a museum and I'll fill it. (Picasso) Give me a forum ...
Chicken mover...
I'm not making this up...
I'm not making this up...
REWahoo
Give me a museum and I'll fill it. (Picasso) Give
Martha said:
I think he sold his collection. Isn't eBay amazing?
CyclingInvestor
Thinks s/he gets paid by the post
SteveR
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A related past time (volunteer activity) was with a Volunteer Fire and Rescue unit. Did that for several years in my spare time. We also rode with the ambulances or did a weekend stint in the Emergency Room every weekend. You see and do a lot in that kind of life. I have seen just about everything and have experienced things most doctors will never see. Saving lives while trying to not lose you own creates a sort of thick skin. No too much bothers me as one might guess.
Easiest job....worked as a DJ at a radio station.
Hardest job...refinished office equipment at night...the fumes from ammonia and laquer thinner we used to clean the stuff before it was painted just about killed my lungs...no respirators or other protection...to stupid and too young to know better. We moved existing office equiipment to a central painting area we set up in the office building after everyone went home. Every thing was moved by hand...including full file cabinets and desks. The fireproof files cabinets were the worst...had to weigh 500 lbs or more. We worked 12 hours...5pm to 5am...6 nights a week for $2 per hour....I quit after 3 months.
Easiest job....worked as a DJ at a radio station.
Hardest job...refinished office equipment at night...the fumes from ammonia and laquer thinner we used to clean the stuff before it was painted just about killed my lungs...no respirators or other protection...to stupid and too young to know better. We moved existing office equiipment to a central painting area we set up in the office building after everyone went home. Every thing was moved by hand...including full file cabinets and desks. The fireproof files cabinets were the worst...had to weigh 500 lbs or more. We worked 12 hours...5pm to 5am...6 nights a week for $2 per hour....I quit after 3 months.
SteveR
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Nords said:
I understand that one. I did body recovery from lakes. Bloated floaters have their own eco system...those were the worst ones to deal with...won't go into the details but I do know what you Navy buddies went through. Was a diver for Fire and Rescue for a while.
mathjak107
Give me a museum and I'll fill it. (Picasso) Give me a forum ...
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i used to work in a candle factory but i hated having to work wickends
Leonidas
Thinks s/he gets paid by the post
Being the "Bone Man"
Had a dishwashing job in a cafeteria while I was a sophomore in high school. Come summertime the full timers were all taking vacations and they moved a lot of the younger employees around to cover. It was a good way to make extra cash and it was a nice break to get out of the hot as hell dishroom. Then I got assigned to come in one day and be the Bone Man. Everyone laughed and at the time I did not know why.
The job entailed shoving what seemed like a ton of bones that had been used the prior day in cooking into an industrial garbage disposal/bone grinder. To describe the smell of old bones (with scraps of meat rotting on them) as rancid just doesn't do it justice. It took hours to shove all of those things into the grinder and the room was as small as a closet. I resorted to taking a napkin, dousing it in vinegar and wearing it as a bandana.
Had a dishwashing job in a cafeteria while I was a sophomore in high school. Come summertime the full timers were all taking vacations and they moved a lot of the younger employees around to cover. It was a good way to make extra cash and it was a nice break to get out of the hot as hell dishroom. Then I got assigned to come in one day and be the Bone Man. Everyone laughed and at the time I did not know why.
The job entailed shoving what seemed like a ton of bones that had been used the prior day in cooking into an industrial garbage disposal/bone grinder. To describe the smell of old bones (with scraps of meat rotting on them) as rancid just doesn't do it justice. It took hours to shove all of those things into the grinder and the room was as small as a closet. I resorted to taking a napkin, dousing it in vinegar and wearing it as a bandana.
MasterBlaster
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bosco
Full time employment: Posting here.
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Well, this may not be the worst job but it did do long-term psychic damage
I worked in a salmon cannery. Shifts were typically 12 hours. All day long, chunks of pink salmon came by on a conveyor and I had to stuff cans with the salmon to within a specified weight tolerance, using a fish knife to trim pieces to get just the right weight. All day. No other responsibility.
In order to deal with it, I would mentally sing to myself...
"there must be 50 ways to can a humpy
you just flip off the skin, Jim
stuff it in the can, stan
stab him in the back, jack" etc.
at the end of the shift, hose off your rubber raingear and boots, hang it in the locker room, and go home. Hmmm....still smelled like fish. Take a shower. No good.
To this day, I am unable to listen to that particular Paul Simon song.
I only lasted 2 days before I had enough.
I worked in a salmon cannery. Shifts were typically 12 hours. All day long, chunks of pink salmon came by on a conveyor and I had to stuff cans with the salmon to within a specified weight tolerance, using a fish knife to trim pieces to get just the right weight. All day. No other responsibility.
In order to deal with it, I would mentally sing to myself...
"there must be 50 ways to can a humpy
you just flip off the skin, Jim
stuff it in the can, stan
stab him in the back, jack" etc.
at the end of the shift, hose off your rubber raingear and boots, hang it in the locker room, and go home. Hmmm....still smelled like fish. Take a shower. No good.
To this day, I am unable to listen to that particular Paul Simon song.
I only lasted 2 days before I had enough.
After reading this thread several times for all its subtle nuances of pain, I have two thoughts:
1. SteveR, you sure suck at finding good jobs. I would never have lasted as long as you have!
2. Dory, I nominate this thread for the "Best Of"!
1. SteveR, you sure suck at finding good jobs. I would never have lasted as long as you have!
2. Dory, I nominate this thread for the "Best Of"!
Cute Fuzzy Bunny said:
Let me guess... the guy who hired you went out of business, and later went on to found a major dot-com company?
Probably true... I worked at a place making French Canadian pastries (only lasted a few days), and I burned myself a number of times on really, really hot oil. It hurts like hell, and I still have the scarred forearms...
I also had a friend who worked in a donut shop, and I heard lots of horror stories. He said he would never eat another donut after working there. Apparently the cruellers are especially disturbing.......
SteveR
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Nords said:
Nords,
Being young and motivated can cause one to take a path they believe to be the one they really want. Much like joining the Navy and living in a steel tube with a hundred other guys for months at a time. I look at it as more a learning experience than it was a poor choice in jobs. I went into them with my eyes wide open and knew what I was getting myself into. I ended up in management in Quality Assurance in the medical products/medical device/pharmaceutical industry. I have worked in every part of the industry as far as manufacturing goes because I made the decision to move around to gain that experience and knowledge. Life is to be lived and I won't die with regrets about not doing something. Scuba diving, rock climbing, cave exploration, skydiving, sailing, car racing, etc., and even volunteer fire fighter and rescue squad member. They all add to ones catalogue of life-experiences and mold who you are.
Poor choices in jobs? Hardly.
Overall, I think I did very well. I am closing in on ER with a seven+ digit nest egg; not bad considering it was in the minus column only 15 years ago. My grown kids are almost through college and I am already planning for my grandkids education.
I have had many other jobs and interests that have rounded out my education in the real world. I don't regret anything I did either as a job or as volunteer work. I am not done yet either. ER will bring more time for more activities in which to experience new things, new places and old friends.
audreyh1 said:
Y'all need to know more healthcare workers! This is a typical day at the office for many. And it's not just the orderlies, I'm an RN and have days like this. And we get s*%t on by the docs and management and administration but we do get a bit more than $5/hr, middling benefits.
I do try not to s*%t on anyone else. Proper care of the patient is my primary goal and some days it's damn hard to achieve that in the midst of all the egos and BS.
Judy
Sorry, I was raised by an RN.JWV said:
Unless the fracture was compound/complex with splinters sticking through the skin, or pumping arterially, the reaction was pretty much "Well, I hope you learned your lesson. Stand up and stay conscious when I'm talking to you, mister. Hey, don't bleed there, I just cleaned the floor!! OK, we'll go to the emergency room. Let me comb my hair first."
That "tough love" sure held off my share of shock trauma, though. She would've loved "ER" & "Grey's Anatomy".
Rich_by_the_Bay
Moderator Emeritus
JWV said:
I'm a hospitalist in a place where the patients are very sick. Nurses are my heros.
Any of my doctors s#%ts on a nurse, and we have a very serious talk.
cute fuzzy bunny
Give me a museum and I'll fill it. (Picasso) Give me a forum ...
A repost from a while ago, but I just got it in email and it fits.
Think you have the worst job? Heres a letter allegedly from a commercial diver to a family member.
Hi Sue, Just another note from your bottom-dwelling brother. Last
week I had a bad day at the office I know you've been feeling down lately at work, so I thought I would share my dilemma with you to make you realize it's not so bad after all. Before I can tell you what happened to me, I first must bore you with a few technicalities of my job.
As you know, my office lies at the bottom of the sea. I wear a suit to the office. It's a wetsuit. This time of year the water is quite cool. So what we do to keep warm is this: We have a diesel powered industrial water heater. This $20,000 piece of equipment sucks the water out of the sea. It heats it to a delightful temperature. It then pumps it down to the diver through a garden hose, which is taped to the air hose.
Now this sounds like a pretty good plan, and I've used it several times with no complaints. What I do, when I get to the bottom and start working, is take the hose and stuff it down the back of my wetsuit.
This floods my whole suit with warm water. It's like working in a Jacuzzi. Everything was going well until all of a sudden, my butt started to itch. So, of course, I scratched it. This only made things worse. Within a few seconds my butt started to burn. I pulled the hose out from my back, but the damage was done. In agony I realized what had happened. The hot water machine had sucked up a jellyfish and pumped it into my suit. Now, since I don't have any hair on my back, the
jellyfish couldn't stick to it. However, the crack of my butt was not as fortunate. When I scratched what I thought was an itch, I was actually grinding the jellyfish into the crack of my butt.
I informed the dive supervisor of my dilemma over the communicator.
His instructions were unclear due to the fact that he, along with five other divers, were all laughing hysterically. Needless to say I aborted the dive.
I was instructed to make three agonizing in-water decompression stops totaling thirty-five minutes before I could reach the surface to begin my chamber dry decompression. When I arrived at the surface, I was wearing nothing but my brass helmet.
As I climbed out of the water, the medic, with tears of laughter running down his face, handed me a tube of cream and told me to rub it on my butt as soon as I got in the chamber The cream put the fire out, but I couldn't poop for two days because my butt was swollen shut.
So, next time you're having a bad day at work, think about how much worse it would be if you had a jellyfish shoved up your butt.
Now repeat to yourself, "I love my job, I love my job, I love my job."
Think you have the worst job? Heres a letter allegedly from a commercial diver to a family member.
Hi Sue, Just another note from your bottom-dwelling brother. Last
week I had a bad day at the office I know you've been feeling down lately at work, so I thought I would share my dilemma with you to make you realize it's not so bad after all. Before I can tell you what happened to me, I first must bore you with a few technicalities of my job.
As you know, my office lies at the bottom of the sea. I wear a suit to the office. It's a wetsuit. This time of year the water is quite cool. So what we do to keep warm is this: We have a diesel powered industrial water heater. This $20,000 piece of equipment sucks the water out of the sea. It heats it to a delightful temperature. It then pumps it down to the diver through a garden hose, which is taped to the air hose.
Now this sounds like a pretty good plan, and I've used it several times with no complaints. What I do, when I get to the bottom and start working, is take the hose and stuff it down the back of my wetsuit.
This floods my whole suit with warm water. It's like working in a Jacuzzi. Everything was going well until all of a sudden, my butt started to itch. So, of course, I scratched it. This only made things worse. Within a few seconds my butt started to burn. I pulled the hose out from my back, but the damage was done. In agony I realized what had happened. The hot water machine had sucked up a jellyfish and pumped it into my suit. Now, since I don't have any hair on my back, the
jellyfish couldn't stick to it. However, the crack of my butt was not as fortunate. When I scratched what I thought was an itch, I was actually grinding the jellyfish into the crack of my butt.
I informed the dive supervisor of my dilemma over the communicator.
His instructions were unclear due to the fact that he, along with five other divers, were all laughing hysterically. Needless to say I aborted the dive.
I was instructed to make three agonizing in-water decompression stops totaling thirty-five minutes before I could reach the surface to begin my chamber dry decompression. When I arrived at the surface, I was wearing nothing but my brass helmet.
As I climbed out of the water, the medic, with tears of laughter running down his face, handed me a tube of cream and told me to rub it on my butt as soon as I got in the chamber The cream put the fire out, but I couldn't poop for two days because my butt was swollen shut.
So, next time you're having a bad day at work, think about how much worse it would be if you had a jellyfish shoved up your butt.
Now repeat to yourself, "I love my job, I love my job, I love my job."
TargaDave
Full time employment: Posting here.
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Worst Job
College days, summer 1978, my very first crewing stint on a questionable 45' scalloping boat out of Hyannis, MA. Job lasted about 5 hrs, including 20 not-so-fun minutes aground on Hankerchief shoals (something like 10 miles out from Chatham). It was 10:30 PM on our way out when we ran aground. Pitch black, with the tide running at more than 10 kts over the sandy shoals like a swift river with big standing waves. The boat would drift up over a wave broadside, bottom out hard in a trough and list up to 30 deg, then eventually get yanked up on the next wave and slam down again. Started taking on serious water after a few minutes of this. We even did a couple of wild 360 deg spins (not rolls) if the bow or stern would hit first in the troughs due to the fast current. You had to hold onto something just to stay on your feet. Rigging flying all over. Oh, and no life raft or exposure suits. I decided the job really sucked when the Captain sent out the Mayday to the Coast Guard. But we got extremely lucky, finally spit out into deeper water with an intact prop-shaft and bilge pumps. Hobbled back to port by 2 AM, plugging hull leaks with whatever we could find and hand bailing the whole way. If they had been rocky shoals the boat wouldn't have lasted 1 minute.
After that surreal indoctronation I got myself a crew spot on a much better boat (Loran C and a Captain who actually knew what he was doing) and the rest of the summer was great.
College days, summer 1978, my very first crewing stint on a questionable 45' scalloping boat out of Hyannis, MA. Job lasted about 5 hrs, including 20 not-so-fun minutes aground on Hankerchief shoals (something like 10 miles out from Chatham). It was 10:30 PM on our way out when we ran aground. Pitch black, with the tide running at more than 10 kts over the sandy shoals like a swift river with big standing waves. The boat would drift up over a wave broadside, bottom out hard in a trough and list up to 30 deg, then eventually get yanked up on the next wave and slam down again. Started taking on serious water after a few minutes of this. We even did a couple of wild 360 deg spins (not rolls) if the bow or stern would hit first in the troughs due to the fast current. You had to hold onto something just to stay on your feet. Rigging flying all over. Oh, and no life raft or exposure suits. I decided the job really sucked when the Captain sent out the Mayday to the Coast Guard. But we got extremely lucky, finally spit out into deeper water with an intact prop-shaft and bilge pumps. Hobbled back to port by 2 AM, plugging hull leaks with whatever we could find and hand bailing the whole way. If they had been rocky shoals the boat wouldn't have lasted 1 minute.
After that surreal indoctronation I got myself a crew spot on a much better boat (Loran C and a Captain who actually knew what he was doing) and the rest of the summer was great.
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