Jobs You've Hated
Jan. 24th, 2008 10:03 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kybearfuzzI was listening to a past BTalk podcast this morning while doing some odds and ends at work and they discussing part-time jobs and it made me think of jobs I've had in the past. I've been a waiter, a library worker, stockboy, salesperson, chemist, etc. However, there is only one I truly hated, which I thought I would have loved at the time.
It was 1994 and I had just gotten my first real job as a chemist, living paycheck to paycheck. I decided to get a part-time, evening job at a video store to help bolster things. I thought this might be fun, considering how much I love movies, but it became anything but.
My manager Don was an ass who was in the closet. His feminine mannerisms, his dancing on weekends at The Dock, a local gay club, his catty attitude -- all just screamed "QUEEN," but he constantly professed that he wasn't gay. Yeah, whatever. He often made issues with my weight, even going as far to call and leave messages on my answering machine to call me into work, but saying, "I know you're probably just sitting in a corner eating a pie..." If I complained, I was being overly sensitive to a joke. Ironically, he told me I was his best employee, but he had a crappy way of showing it.
The real problem started when he hired this kid whose name I don't even recall, an effeminate guy who had a bleached blond boyfriend. Now I was in ye olde closet myself, but it was strange that this place was essentially run by three gay men and two straight women. The new guy was lazy, which didn't sit well with me, but it wasn't my job to keep him going.
One night a customer returned a porno tape several months overdue. It had been so long that the video store had since been bought out by Movie Gallery and we had ceased renting them. Don threw the tape in trash while the new guy and I were standing there. I was closing up later that night alone and noted the tape was gone when I emptied the garbage. Thinking that the new guy probably took it, I joked with him the next day, asking him how the movie was. The new guy got instantly defensive, telling me he didn't take it and how dare I call him a thief. When I tried to tell him I was kidding, he just sat sullen behind the counter all night. It was a weekend night and we were swamped. The customers stood in a long line, but I couldn't get him to get up and run the other register, he just sat there whining and bitching.. at me.. in front of customers. I was embarrassed and livid.
When the rush was over, I got up into his face and told him to get his lazy ass out from behind this counter and leave... "or else!" Sissy boy flittered to the back office and called Don to let him know I had threatened him. Don called me at the front of the store and asked me if I had. "Damn right I did!" I said and recounted the night's events.
Don didn't fire the brat, which angered me more, he just limited our exposure to each other. Christmas was coming up and Don was trying to smooth things over by making us all draw names for presents. The brat got my name. I just looked over at him and said, "Don't bother! I don't want anything from you."
"See, he hates me!" he whined, turning to Don.
"Wow, you're way more perceptive than I thought," I snapped back, "If you buy me anything, it'll go in the trash." Don swapped names with him.
During this time, strange things began to happen. A customer had dropped off his VCR for repair and it had yet to return. When we tried to trace it, it was supposedly returned to the store already. Movies were misplaced to where I couldn't find them. By this time, I had worked there only four or five months, but I had gotten completely fed up with the place. The free movies and the extra pay was not worth the headache. I gave Don my two-weeks notice before the start of January as to not have to deal with W-2's and such. He wasn't mad, but he hated to see me go.
The drama at the store didn't end there. I rented movies there weeks later and struck up a conversation with one of the new female clerks. Apparently, the brat and his boyfriend had broken up. In the fallout, the boyfriend had reported to the video store management that the brat had been stealing things all along, including the missing VCR, the assumed "misplaced" movies, food, and even money. Things were returned, the brat was fired but no charges were filed. Don eventually got transferred to another store. Movie Gallery decided to close that location a month or so later.
Well, that's my worst job ever. What is yours? :)
It was 1994 and I had just gotten my first real job as a chemist, living paycheck to paycheck. I decided to get a part-time, evening job at a video store to help bolster things. I thought this might be fun, considering how much I love movies, but it became anything but.
My manager Don was an ass who was in the closet. His feminine mannerisms, his dancing on weekends at The Dock, a local gay club, his catty attitude -- all just screamed "QUEEN," but he constantly professed that he wasn't gay. Yeah, whatever. He often made issues with my weight, even going as far to call and leave messages on my answering machine to call me into work, but saying, "I know you're probably just sitting in a corner eating a pie..." If I complained, I was being overly sensitive to a joke. Ironically, he told me I was his best employee, but he had a crappy way of showing it.
The real problem started when he hired this kid whose name I don't even recall, an effeminate guy who had a bleached blond boyfriend. Now I was in ye olde closet myself, but it was strange that this place was essentially run by three gay men and two straight women. The new guy was lazy, which didn't sit well with me, but it wasn't my job to keep him going.
One night a customer returned a porno tape several months overdue. It had been so long that the video store had since been bought out by Movie Gallery and we had ceased renting them. Don threw the tape in trash while the new guy and I were standing there. I was closing up later that night alone and noted the tape was gone when I emptied the garbage. Thinking that the new guy probably took it, I joked with him the next day, asking him how the movie was. The new guy got instantly defensive, telling me he didn't take it and how dare I call him a thief. When I tried to tell him I was kidding, he just sat sullen behind the counter all night. It was a weekend night and we were swamped. The customers stood in a long line, but I couldn't get him to get up and run the other register, he just sat there whining and bitching.. at me.. in front of customers. I was embarrassed and livid.
When the rush was over, I got up into his face and told him to get his lazy ass out from behind this counter and leave... "or else!" Sissy boy flittered to the back office and called Don to let him know I had threatened him. Don called me at the front of the store and asked me if I had. "Damn right I did!" I said and recounted the night's events.
Don didn't fire the brat, which angered me more, he just limited our exposure to each other. Christmas was coming up and Don was trying to smooth things over by making us all draw names for presents. The brat got my name. I just looked over at him and said, "Don't bother! I don't want anything from you."
"See, he hates me!" he whined, turning to Don.
"Wow, you're way more perceptive than I thought," I snapped back, "If you buy me anything, it'll go in the trash." Don swapped names with him.
During this time, strange things began to happen. A customer had dropped off his VCR for repair and it had yet to return. When we tried to trace it, it was supposedly returned to the store already. Movies were misplaced to where I couldn't find them. By this time, I had worked there only four or five months, but I had gotten completely fed up with the place. The free movies and the extra pay was not worth the headache. I gave Don my two-weeks notice before the start of January as to not have to deal with W-2's and such. He wasn't mad, but he hated to see me go.
The drama at the store didn't end there. I rented movies there weeks later and struck up a conversation with one of the new female clerks. Apparently, the brat and his boyfriend had broken up. In the fallout, the boyfriend had reported to the video store management that the brat had been stealing things all along, including the missing VCR, the assumed "misplaced" movies, food, and even money. Things were returned, the brat was fired but no charges were filed. Don eventually got transferred to another store. Movie Gallery decided to close that location a month or so later.
Well, that's my worst job ever. What is yours? :)
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Date: 2008-01-24 04:13 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2008-01-24 04:24 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2008-01-24 05:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-24 05:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-24 10:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-25 03:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-24 04:58 pm (UTC)I'm having a hard time envisioning you being so snippy with the boy.
Anyway...my WORST job...driving a forklift in a coffee warehouse...it was hot as hell...and I broke my hand while driving one day.
Oh..also the over night shifts at the convenience store 2 years ago. customers threatening to shoot me...and cracked out coworkers trying to kill each other.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-24 05:31 pm (UTC)Cracked out co-workers??? Double-yikes!!
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Date: 2008-01-24 06:57 pm (UTC)they grow in bags of manure in dark damp tunnels.
And I made the HUGE salary of 50p per hour.
I didn't last very long.
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Date: 2008-01-24 10:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-25 02:52 am (UTC)Ah, good times.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-25 01:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-25 05:53 am (UTC)When I was a very young teen, my grandfather owned a red neck bar called the "Snafu". It was a local joint out in the country, frequented by farmers, thier workers, and guys with mullets in So. Cali. My job was to clean the place on Sat and Sunday mornings. So I got the pleasure of cleaning all the mess from folks getting sick the night before. On friday and sat nights, me and my cousins used to play out in the fields behind the bar and we would laugh at all the drunk f*cks coming out. The whole experience really turned me off from bars, I never went to a bar again untill I was about 25 years old.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-25 01:04 pm (UTC)