Worst Job Ever

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Doing move out inspections at an upscale apartment community geared towards wealthy, spoiled college students. These places were $1200 a month for a private bed/bath and shared living space back in the mid-90s and as a rule the people trashed the units because mommy and daddy would take care of everything.

In one unit, the toilet was completely gone and the tenants were just shitting and pissing as close to the hole as possible. People would move out and just leave all of their stuff behind. The levels of filth I saw was indescribable, like shit you’d see on Hoarders.

People also abandoned animals left and right. I rescued an adorable kitten that was so malnourished she ended up stunted and never got bigger than a six month old kitten.

On the day I quit, I walked into an apartment that had been vacant for a week only to find two guys having sex on a mattress on the floor. After I gathered myself I went on to another unit that smelled awful before I even got to the door. Turns out there was a fucking Vietnamese potbellied pig that was just left behind in a bedroom. There was no food or water and there were feces all over the entire apartment, it was obvious they weren’t taking her out because they didn’t want to get caught with an “exotic.”

She was so skeletal you could see every single vertebrae and rib. I scooped her up (she was so weak she didn’t even protest, pigs almost always squeal when picked up) put her in the golf cart, drove up to the office, and quit. It was the last straw. I figured she’d been closed up for over a week before I got around to inspecting because of the end of year rush.

That was fun to go home and announce I’d just quit my first teen job and can we keep her? Especially after bringing home a kitten the week before. Thankfully we had a lot of room and my parents were hesitantly ok with fostering at the very least. She ended up being a really cool pet; she was smart and learned tricks and she was already housebroken and leash trained. It was obvious she’s been cared for at some point.
 
Chef. Not fast food but a chef. It's not bad because of the job itself. Pumping out good food is very rewarding, it's the people and the atmosphere. Anyone who can walk into a full house and ask if their food can be rushed because they have a show or somewhere to be, or they're extremely-deathly allergic to calamari or nuts puts an incredible weight on your shoulders, or a table of 6 come in 5 minutes to close and say "we'll it's not ten o'clock yet..." or they send something back because they didn't read the menu but you just spent 6 minutes making it. Not just that you made it but you made the prep for it, so it's wasted labor.

Servers are constantly asking you for things while you're already elbows deep in fifteen tables, you don't take breaks, you can't take breaks because you got 70 people waiting for their mains, someone suddenly decided midstream to change their order, someone is suddenly allergic to something, nobody ever sees you, it's a million degrees back there, you're dehydrated, you gotta piss and it's rush hour, you're running out of prep so when you have a lull all you do is prep, servers screwing up orders, boss asking if you can make something special on the fly for their friends in the heat of a busy service, how long on table six, how long on table fourteen, is table nine close?, you're dishwasher called in sick so you're two people - one cooking, one washing dishes. It's a thankless job and it's emotionally exhausting.

I spent fifteen minutes making a single order on a table of ten for a person who had a deadly allergy to fish. Well, our restaurant serves a lot of seafood. So I did the order last before I started anything else even though we got a full house. Sanitized the cutting boards and used all new tongs/pans fresh out of the dishwasher. Touched nothing but her pan and tongs and a plate. Head chef stayed away as well as the prep guy doing their own things. Server comes back and says she wants a guarantee that it's safe. I say I can't guarantee that. I did absolutely everything in my pover to reduce the chance if even the slightest cross contamination but I cannot guarantee that, no restaurant that takes itself seriously can guarantee that. She takes the dish out, brings it back two seconds later and says she doesn't want it. Why? Because I can't guarantee 100% that it's safe. Why would you come to a place that sells a ton of seafood in the first place if you're deathly allergic to seafood? It's a thankless job where nobody sees how hard you work or just how much you run around like a headless chicken. Servers come back and say they don't want mussels can you substitute the mussels for shrimp and scallops? No. Mussels cost nothing and shrimp and scallops are expensive. Well... I already said they could :(

It's a truly, truly thankless job it's character-building but it's mentally exhausting and you feel like a literal robot that has no value at times. I could go on and on about it but I think the absolute worst job in the world would be a pilot or a proctologist.
 
I am at a point in my life where I'll work any job as long as it pays on paydays. I don't mind working, I appreciate the fuck out of hardworking blue collar people like Hank Hill types, I value people who work and pay their own way in life. But fuck does it kill your soul to work a wageslave job and not get paid on payday, and having shady employers fronting well-standing businesses who act predatory on student workers, young girls, naive young men, any fool whom they can get to work overtime without compensation. One time I got into a ridiculous argument with an owner of a famous cookie joint who called me "special" and "haughty" for not wanting to work overtime for gratis. Shit's all backwards.
 
night bartender. it's not that bad at the first look, but bar's manager's were the worst + there were no guards and alarm button was in bar's basement (and usually there were only 2 girls, me and waiter, on a shift so it was f*cking scary sometimes). gladly, there were no crime but every night there were BUMS. Bums, who wanted to sleep in bar's toilet.
One day bum sneak into toilet, sleep here for 3-4 hour(and in this time customers couldnt go to toilet) and after that he came to bar and pissed on a floor.
i hate this bar and this job, salary was so small, i had 3 shifts a week and i got ~115 $ PER MONTH
 
A few years ago I had to inventory several hundred Elo all in one computers that were damaged in a tornado and subsequently left out in the rain. They were cracked, filthy with dried rainwater that had turned them rusty, and being kept in an non-air-conditioned warehouse in coastal Mississippi in August that was infested with paper wasps. And I had to do each of them twice, because somebody in accounting was convinced I didn't get them all the first time.
 
To quote Winston Zeddmore in Ghostbusters, 'As long as there's a steady paycheck, I'll believe anything you say.'

I've gotta say, though, doing grease-trap cleaning in restaurants is hellish. You're typically showing up during closing time (so it's nighttime and you're probably sleepy), the chemicals used can damage your skin if you're not careful, the stink from the grease is horrid, you invariably get wet from the water used... I'm not picky, I used to be a chimney sweep for fuck's sake, but grease-vent cleaning really is down there on the list.

I also worked as a vet assistant (read: cage jockey and dog bather). That one was painful for different reasons. I hated when someone had to bring their pet in for that final visit, but I'd usually keep it together long enough to help the vet get things done.

Then I'd go downstairs to the kennels and cry for a bit. Sorry, even a tough ol' pepper like me can only take so much.
 
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