QotD: Worst. Job. Ever.

What was the worst job you ever had?
Submitted by salaryman.

Instead of going really in depth into the worst. job. ever, let me instead take you on a whirlwind tour of all of my bad jobs.  Oh and when I say bad what I mean is character-building.  Right, dad?

Age 16-17: Bus "person"/dishwasher at local Italian restaurant. Had to wear androgenizing dress shirt, tie and apron, also had my hair cut short + no boobs = often referred to as a "he" by both elderly and non-elderly diners.  Started painting my fingernails religiously, did not seem to have substantial effect.  (It chipped off every time I had to scrub the cast iron pans or unload the steaming hot industrial-strength dishwasher.)  Came home at night smelling of burnt grease and garlic.  Added perks: Free pizza for my family.  But, the "free" was only after they found a baby cockroach in a pie and I presented it to my boss wrapped in foil.

Age 17-18: Bakery biotch.  Worked with a bunch of odd, menopausal sisters and their mother.  Added perks: Got to leave school early.  Got to eat a ton of iced sugar cutout cookies, for which there was perennially a jaunty holiday theme.  But, paid less than minimum wage for some reason.

Age 18: Data entry/accounts receivable for fitness club company.  I don't quite know what I did there, except for making copies of people's records to send to credit card companies to explain why we were penalizing them x number of dollars/sending them to collections for breaking the fine print on their contract.  It is now I realize I was actually doing the devil's handiwork.  I'm pretty sure I knew it then though.  I shared a cubicle with a woman who loved to post pictures of, and talk incessantly about her child.  And then she got pregnant!  Again!  Added perks: Off the books.  But, I got "laid off" after like a month.  And I cried because it was the most money I had ever made, and I hated food service.

Age 18: Summer before college, my friend got me a job hostessing in the restaurant of a Holiday Inn: "Barney Googles."  Took my very first (and last) drug test.  Which is weird considering everyone who worked there was on drugs.  There were a few regulars ("Horseman" comes immediately to mind, both for his ponytail and his storytelling charm) who were actually tenants at the Holiday Inn.  Like, they lived there.  Also lots of truckers, and kids who were staying the night before getting sent to Army bases.  These were called MEPS and had a special menu.  The food at the restaurant was terrible, and the cash register computer system was from 1984.  There was a KIDZONE where families with children could sit, scream, play with toys, and put chewed up food absolutely anywhere they wanted.  Added perks: Nothing really; a depressing time.

Age 20: Internship at local nonprofit charitable organization.  Spent most of the time collating/trying to look busy.

Age 22-23: Finished college.  Sent out seemingly stellar English-major resumes far and wide.  Took a job at a video store to "tide me over."  Worked there until the store closed almost a year later.  Got to watch endless stream of PG-13 (PG when regional manager was around) movies in-store.  Someday soon I will have to make a list of these gems (among them Don't Tell Her It's Me, Teen Wolf Too, She's Out of Control, Mr. Nanny, plus a marathon screening of Weekend at Bernie's II.)  Rented and sold comedies, dramas, B-horror flicks, cult classics and Disney cartoons to an affluent suburban public.  Also porn.  Lots and lots of porno.  All genres.  Even the kinds you didn't know existed.*   Had the unique opportunity to interact with/avoid interaction with many customers interested in porn.**  Cried after the first day.  Came home at night smelling of that coconut oil fake butter we used in the popcorn machine and smoke from the manager's Dorals.  Had to wear one of those HUGE company t-shirts that on a petite girl had short sleeves that reached to mid-forearm; meanwhile one of the hipster dudes who worked there had somehow gotten hold of a tiny tee.  Added perks: Free rentals.  Unlimited (smoke) breaks.  Putting nasty/funny/cautionary comments on customer accounts for coworkers to read and similarly find hilarious.

Age 23: Customer service desk in department store.  Similar to library, actually: answering questions, directing calls, dealing with the crazy dude who comes in every day to pay down his balance by a few pennies.  Lots and lots of rules and policies that if broken WILL NOT GO UNPUNISHED and everyone will talk about it.  No security, all kinds of theft.  Lots of disgruntled saleswomen working on commission.  Really not that great of a discount.  (Morale was kinda low.)  Added perks: Made friends with a sweet older lady there who was born and used to live in Brooklyn.  As I was deciding whether or not to move to Brooklyn.  But, I gave one day less than two weeks notice before I moved, so the store made it clear that because of that they will never rehire me for as long as I live. 

They can all kiss my ass. 

Looking back at this all now, this glowing resume of humiliating trials and travails, I again thank the Lord to be where I am today, in my own apartment, not in Ohio, with not too much debt and a job that I don't hate and don't hate myself for doing.  And I'm glad I can leave at the end of the day without smelling strongly of popcorn butter or garlic or smoke, or burnt anything.  Well, usually.