Worst Jobs you have had to make ends meet
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You hear of people having some terrible jobs just to make ends meet has anyone on Digital spy had any experiences.
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Your right I havent got a job but recently I have heard stories from people who have had to work in terrible jobs
So, door-to-door sales every evening after 6pm, in snowstorms and/or hail, biting winds, after eating a bowl of cornflakes at 8am. During the day we were talked at by the management about selling techniques etc before going out to the estates to sell.
Awful job. I packed it in as soon as we got back to our home town.
We weren't even warned beforehand - we were told we wouldn't need money because we'd be earning loads. On the Monday that they took us there, however, the management changed the rules to week-in-hand pay rather than daily.
I also worked in a data-centre as something akin to a 'porter' slash 'cleaner' which was odd because neither thing was actually in my job description. The saving grace was it paid £18k a year, because it was the sort of shit-work that would have paid minimum wage elsewhere. I was in the big skips out back just sorting out rubbish half the time. Wouldn't have done it for any less money.
Also included clearing the old rubble into skips. Pushing a full wheel barrow up a single plank of wood to tip it into a skip was a job that needed practise.
Health & Safety was in non-existent back then - but the money was fantastic.
I have had more boring jobs, but none that I recall ever being so cold for so long.
To see in a lorry backing into the yard with 600 2x2 compressed concrete flags that you know are going to have to be hand balled off brought a feeling of dread.
You would start off at the back of the trailer at just over waist height but by the time you got to the back of the cab they were coming off at shoulder height. Sweat running down your face and caked with the inevitable dust, Your head would be banging with the heat and you desperately wanted to take your shirt off but you couldn't or your skin would be ripped to shreds. All for a wage of £17 a week. I was a teenager and stuck it for 6 weeks but there was an older lad who stunned me one day by telling me he had been there for 5 yrs.
It wouldn't be allowed now and the flags are all on pallets for fork lift removal or brought off with a grabber thank god. One thing though, it gave me the kick up the arse I needed to improve myself and set me on the road to where I am now.
http://www.featherman.net/pluckers.html
Four foot square bales of mashed pulp then had to be manually removed from a belt after processing and then 'hand banded' with wire and a pair of industrial pliars - God help you if the wire came undone and sprang back on you. A 2 minute lesson on how to drive a fork lift and then stacking these bales 3 high without securing them. A favourite 'prank' was to stand a newcomer by these stacks and others then push a bale down onto them.
Working with some of the roughest, hardest men I have ever met. A vocabulary where every word was qualified with words beginning with f and c. I thought I could swear, but blimey!
'Cash in 'and mate, no questions'.
ok this was fourty years ago!!
my father used to pluck turkeys at christmas too. we used to get a foot to play with
My first job was to put the lids on the tin ... For 8-9 hours a a day ... Tin.. Lid .. Tin lid ... Tin lid .... God it was dull
I lasted about 2 weeks before I figured out the true nature and my conscience got the better of me.
"Hey, girl! Come 'orward, come 'orward. Here, look! I have money if you come closer! *drunken giggle* Lemme feel your bottom! No, your chichi! I like chichi! Yeah, I give you 'oney if you let me feel 'em! *hands reaching out* Gimme gimme. Come on! Come 'loser, girl! Gimme! *falls off bar stool*"
So did I. Pull a ligament make a chicken's claws clutch involuntarily. It was fun chasing childhood friends around my garden with it.
I worked as a 'potman' in a holiday camp in the mid 70's. I can honestly say it was the most tiring job I have ever had in my life, and I was a nurse for 20 odd years after that.
We worked from 0800 - 1500 and then 1800 - 0200 for 6 days a week. After a month I had my 18th and on that day [after much pleading] was promoted to barman. It was still hard work, but not having to deal with the plebs on their own territory was far better. There is a bar between you and you have something they want, so they are far more civil, besides, as our then bar manager told us 'If fings get tasty, bottle out of the skip, smash on the bar and glass 'em'. before they get to you'.
I do miss the 70's
No one bangs the potman either. The barman has an allure - God knows why, or it might be the free pass we could give someone to the nightclub on camp.
Happy, happy days for an 18 year old in the 70's.