Bad job......not mine though made me feel bad. I was going out with a girl many moons ago during my first year at university. She was a bit of a horsey type (in the riding sense rather than resembling Princess Anne). One of her duties during summer was rubbing vaseline into the stallion's knobs to prevent chapped-cock (a horsey complaint she told me). She didn't seem to dislike the job as such but it made me feel somewhat inferior.
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sick_boy,
Fri 14 Nov 2003, 9:57,
archived)
Another one!My Work experience was in the 'Rehab' ward for the local mental hospital (My own dumbass fault for not submitting the application until the end and getting the shite jobs) , and it was terrible and depressing! I'd seen One Flew over the Cuckoos nest as preperation, and mentioned this to the Head Nurse guy, so he took us on a trip to see the electro-therapy dept, and we got to see some poor old woman get 2000 volts between her lobes, and flop about on the bed like a beached fish! The rest of the week was spent loading up pots with plastic slime, and putting kiddies chalk into boxes - so I was not so much helping the paitients with their rehab, but more being rehabbed myself! Plus the nutters (politically incorrect i know, but WTF we're all bumgay right?) were fighting over the heat sealer for the slime, and one guy kept trying sell me his car (I was 15)..and some of them had very bizarre ways of communicating using grunts, squeals and drooling but still managed to put bets on at the bookies (They got paid for their work @ 1.50 per hour ..hey maybe they post here too!)...so their rehab was going great! My friend Steven also gave one of the patients a sip of his coke, and fucked up his medication, so he got put into restraints for the afternoon! My how we laughed once we got over the guilt...
(,
Fri 14 Nov 2003, 13:05,
archived)
I was once...A barman....
doesnt sound too bad does it?
I was hard up and desperate for cash, and I wandered into a bar and asked for a job. I was barely 18 and had never been into the bar before. I made it perfectly clear that I had no bar experiance whatsoever. My previous pub outings involved sitting as far away from the bar as possible and getting the oldest looking member to buy the drinks (this was before I hit 18), so i didnt really know what went on behind the bar.
Next day, the manager i spoke to the day before offers me the job, starting in 20 minutes.
Little did I know that it was a famously rough pub, I walk in at 1pm, and the manager says "Theres the till, drinks are all here, barrells are downstairs, I'll be back for closing!" and promptly exits leaving me on my own for the whole day.
I worked for 11 hours a day, 6 days a week (It would have been seven except I demanded one day off to actually do something), for 6 weeks. Then after 2 pay cuts (I was on less than minimum to start with) and being £20 short changed on my last weeks wages, I walked.
Saw many fights, and cleaned up plenty of borken glass. The regulars were actually really nice and looked after me (showing me the ropes), but I would only see the manager 2 times a day, at opening, and at close. I was the only other barman.
The best part was the Sat Night doorman, who after leaving the pub at 11 went on to do the doors at some club, he would always get me and a couple of mates in to the club through the side door for free :D
Sad thing is that the manager sold the pub a year ago, and drinks in the same pub that a friend of mine works in, so I see him quite regularly now, he still remembered my name after 4 years of me walking out after 6 weeks.
(,
Fri 14 Nov 2003, 14:12,
archived)
doesnt sound too bad does it?
I was hard up and desperate for cash, and I wandered into a bar and asked for a job. I was barely 18 and had never been into the bar before. I made it perfectly clear that I had no bar experiance whatsoever. My previous pub outings involved sitting as far away from the bar as possible and getting the oldest looking member to buy the drinks (this was before I hit 18), so i didnt really know what went on behind the bar.
Next day, the manager i spoke to the day before offers me the job, starting in 20 minutes.
Little did I know that it was a famously rough pub, I walk in at 1pm, and the manager says "Theres the till, drinks are all here, barrells are downstairs, I'll be back for closing!" and promptly exits leaving me on my own for the whole day.
I worked for 11 hours a day, 6 days a week (It would have been seven except I demanded one day off to actually do something), for 6 weeks. Then after 2 pay cuts (I was on less than minimum to start with) and being £20 short changed on my last weeks wages, I walked.
Saw many fights, and cleaned up plenty of borken glass. The regulars were actually really nice and looked after me (showing me the ropes), but I would only see the manager 2 times a day, at opening, and at close. I was the only other barman.
The best part was the Sat Night doorman, who after leaving the pub at 11 went on to do the doors at some club, he would always get me and a couple of mates in to the club through the side door for free :D
Sad thing is that the manager sold the pub a year ago, and drinks in the same pub that a friend of mine works in, so I see him quite regularly now, he still remembered my name after 4 years of me walking out after 6 weeks.
A little while back...I worked at the Co-op. I couldnt work out why I was the only teenage female employee there, until I got the uniform... think school dinner lady crossed with granny.
My job was to push carts across one part of the store to the other, full of milk and about twice as heavy as me. Its a miracle I never crushed (many) small children.
The worst part was getting the milk from the freezer... SO cold. And the guys I worked with thought itd be soooo funny to close the door behind me when I was in there one day and switch the light off.
Bastards.
I was in there two hours before my manager realised that he hadnt been able to peer down my top with the security cameras for a while and went looking for me.