Crap Jobs (1 Viewer)

[Leadmen]

With amusement I read Nija's post about some working conditions. So I thought everyone probably had some crap jobs at times. Mine started with a delivery route to bars to deliver supplies-fake booze, chips etc. It took me months to realize I had the worst and toughest bars in city and Gary, Ind. They would rob my truck while making deliveries and block phone and doors. Company I worked for had connections if you know what I mean. One drunk bartender verbally assaulted me and when I reported it to the "Boss" that guy was gone the next week. Where? no idea. I also worked for General Foods making Kool Aid and open seasonings dressing for three years. Really impressed your date when you had a "orange or grape" flavor look. Seasonings were worse. Car smelled like flavor of the week- blue cheese-garlic etc. Last crap job was a steel mill in Gary Ind. Lasted 2 hours till I found a way out of the complex. Seems funny now but I am sure it happens to many people. Leadmen

 

[Njja]

One of my worst was as a letter carrier. Took the civil service exam when I

got out of college and got a job in my home town as a mailman. I was 21,

every morning we stood at our desks which actually had a slot for each

address and they brought us piles of mail for our route to place in the slots.

When all your mail was sorted you took about 200 letters and put a leather

strap around it and tossed it into a bag. Each route had 1 mailbag full of mail

and usually 3 bags dropped in the old green solid mailboxes along the routes

to stock up. You usually did two mail bags had lunch and finished the last

two. Started at 7am sorted till 9 or 9:30 walked your route till 12:30 half

hour for lunch....then 3 more hours walking and back to punch out at 4:15.

Now mind you....you are civil service and you cannot be fired unless you

steal or throw away the mail (hey mail guys snap when the samples show

up. They bring you 10,000 mini bars of soap to deliver "take a sack a day

out" just when you finish here comes mini bottles of mouthwash!)

So the Post Office figured out how to keep everyone scared. They have

secret entrances into the Post Office with stairways that lead to viewing

galleries. These have one way viewing slots so you can't tell when you are

being watched!! Check it out next time you are at your local Post Office.

You will still see the sorting tables with slots and if you look up you will see

the viewing ports. Anyway when ever a strange car was in the back parking

lot the supervisors (actually Nija trained cause they could sneak up behind

you) would come around and warn us "No talking!.....The Postal Inspectors

could be watching".....all the workers were so brow beaten they would panic.

They also had a bell system that was not to be believed! At 7am a LONG

LOUD BELL rang that made you feel like you were on an attack submarine!

This was your report to work station bell followed by a "No talking" warning.

8am brought another Blast from hell......"15 minute break we recommend you

keep sorting" 8:15 another ear piercing back to work blast. 9am the Pack up

and move out blast....followed by a blast every 15 minutes until the last

straggler (usually me) had left the building. If you spoke (God forbid) to your

neighbor (each desk is aprox 15 feet apart perfect no conversation distance)

the Nija supervisors from hell would be behind one of your ears to remind

you "No talking"

Into this perfect world we introduce a 21 year old wiseguy with an attitude.

Perfect match. I don't know anybody so I'm sorting my mail minding my own

business but I keep hearing conversations.....pretty soon I realize my nearest

neighbor maybe 26 or 27 is talking to me while looking straight ahead and

sorting. So I walk over to him and ask him what he wants? Without ever

looking at me he warns me to get back to my desk!! Out of nowhere the Nija

Supervisor one Walter Winning (the original fellow with the bulging eyes that

went in two different directions) was on me. He got right in my face and was

so excited I could hardly understand him. Something about the Postal

Inspectors, work stations, United Nations Peace Accords, who could tell?

Me I was just looking at the two bulging eyes and trying to figure out which

one exactly was looking at me? My eyes started to tear as I could not get

each one to focus seperatly on his....mine tended to stay in the same

direction fortunately. Okay, Okay I said and went back to sorting mail.

Then the dam bells went off I thought it was a fire drill or something and

all the guys got out their little lunch pails and poured a cup of coffee again

looking straight ahead. My neighbor again started with the conversation so

I walked over and we repeated the eariler lesson with me mentioning

something about a break and Walter reminding me I really should be sorting.

This went on for a week or so, and I realized everone was having the

straight ahead conversations like a group of ventriliquests.

I somehow couldn't master the art of throwing my voice so when asked a

question I would simply walk over and answer when Walter appeared after

the usual verbal barage one day I asked him if I wasn't civil service? "Yes"

he said, I asked him if I could be fired?? And he said "Not for talking...but I

could be written up" I asked Wally (My name is Walter) how many write ups

for talking would get me fired.......and he said "Well you can't be fired for

talking" So I asked him to go and get his pad.....and bring a thick one. As

you can imagine we became Pals.

Now I was never a big talker cause frankly most of the guys were kind of

scary.....like they were going to snap. Every now and then a story would

circulate that someone had been "retired" because the Postal Inspectors

caught him throwing samples down the sewer.....or putting bags of them in

a dumpster. What a madhouse......be nice to your mailman believe me they

go through hell. I always give mine a nice tip at christmas, and I know his

name.

What happen to my Postal Career you ask? Did I get the 30 year pin??

Actually I almost got the 3 month carnation.......I came in one Friday about

an hour late. They had me subing two different routes. Wally was waiting

both eyes in Full Bulge......I think I saw a tiny wiff of steam coming out of

one of his ears! Man did he get in my face.....my eyes started tearing up

just trying to follow along. I remember I stretched out my right arm and held

up two fingers.....I knew one eye was looking at me.....I wanted to see if the

other one would notice......it didn't

Wally said......"This isn't working out"! I agreed.

Wally said......I could submit my resignation and when they found a

replacement I could leave.

"Interesting concept" I said....."How about I quit"

Wally reminds me I can't quit......I'm Civil Service (never quite figured out

what exactly that ment)

I pointed to the door and told Wally I was never steping through it again,

if I couln't quit then he could just mail me my checks.

Wally seemed perplexed he told me I had to resign.........I said bye.....he

asked me if I would sign a resignation if he typed one up real quick!

I said sure if you have it done by the time I reach the door, he must have

had it ready!

Best move I ever made!

Njja

 

[Louis Badolato]

The worst job I ever had was as a Teamster loading trucks on the graveyard shift (midnight to 8:00 a.m.) while I worked my way through lawschool. In the summer it could be 95 degrees outside, and it would be over 100 in the trailers we were loading. The packages never stopped coming down the shoot, and we had to keep up. On a really hot night I would lose 5-10 lbs. Oh, and by the way, then I had to take a quick shower and go right to class, then grab something to eat, do my homework, sleep about 5-6 hours and go back to work. After three years of this, studying for the bar exam felt like a vacation.

 

[Firebat]

New Car prep man (Washed cars put on hubcaps etc.) Irvington, New Jersey
Delivered Pizza in Newark, New Jersey
Pumped Gas in Newark, New Jersey
Night time Security guard at an Oil Refinery in Elizabeth, New Jersey

Firebat

 

[wadepat]

John,

That is an incredible story! I can not even come close to matching it! Rest assured, I will always be nice to my letter carrier!

Warmest personal regards,

Pat

 

[jazzeum]

Those are incredible stories from both Johns. I've had it relatively easy. After graduating college, I went to grad school at Vanderbilt to study Latin American History until I realized I was not god's gift to learning. Anyway, I got a job as a short order cook at Shoney's Big Boy which made me realize I wouldn't be a Chef. On my first assignment, the customer ordered eggs so I made scrambled eggs. The waitress returned and said he ordered it over easy. I say but the ticket said "eggs any style" and she said "eggs his style, not yours, you idiiot." Well, it got worse after that. I was constantly burning the hamburgers and Larry, a big beefy guy with a huge Southern drawl, would say to me "Brad, your're burning that burger, you're burnin' money!" Then they had me cleaning the french fry fryer. Man, that thing was hot. One day, I dropped my glasses in there. Amazingly, they didn't melt too much. After about 3 more days of that I handed in my resignation. Larry reluctantly agreed.

 

[Gideon]

At 18 I was an orderly at the Cora Hoffman center in Staten Island.

Upon arrival, I walk into this airplane hangar type building with "learning rooms" you would hear, see and smell the people there. They were mostly from the infamous Willowbrook asylum.

For those of you who don't know, Willowbrook was exposed as a nothing less than a house of torture for the people who suffered various forms of mental and physical retardation. These are not people who can communicate with other people - a lot of lower functioning cerebral palsey and other defects.

I would sit in a room with a couple of guys - there would be a call and we would have to haul *** to the room. Entering the room, you might find one of the people throwing wheelchairs or those really heavy wood folding tables like it was nothing - weigtless - or they could be throwing much worse stuff (I won't even go there). We had to get these folks into those padded rooms and into the jackets.

There was this one guy named Chris. We had a lot of problems with him, he was strong and stubborn and he would just, seemingly, fly into rages. It was hell trying to subdue him. He was always making these repetetive motions with his hands - he would fight and then start making these gestures.

I come in one day. I was shown a letter from a care worker who Chris had been with at another center. It said that she had taught him some sign language - just a little so Chris could ask for water, bathroom, food, hello, goodbye and some other things. None of us knew this, not even his parents who would come to visit from time to time.

I quit not long after that. I had been bitten, gotten all kinds of shots as a result, I have a couple of scars - but, most of all, I was just thinking over and over again about this guy who was trying to talk with people for three years with no chance of anyone repsonding or understanding. I still think about that a lot.

 

[sceic2]

During my first enlistment, while waiting for a flight in Phily to Europe to join my first ship, I had the honor of cleaning the heads in a barracks for an Iranian crew set to take over a decommissioned US destroyer. This was pre-hostage days when the Shaw bought many of our old and some new ships.

The crews would come to the Phily shipyard to train with the US prior to commissioning the ship into the Iranian navy. And I guess I was the luck son-of-a-youknowwhat that got to clean up their mess.

On weekends they would go somewhere in PA and get a goat or two, bring them back to the barracks and use the head as a slaughter house/kitchen. They would gut the poor animals and cook them in small metal trash cans in the building, all the while drinking Johnny Walker Red by the case. Man what a sight it was on Monday mornings. Goat guts and whiskey bottles everywhere. On a usual day it would take me about an hour to clean the place up, on Mondays it took four of us half a day. The XO would just laugh when we told him during his weekly inspection tour.

At least they were not like the Turks, they were in Norfolk during the early 70s', taking over another decommissioned US destroyer, when one of their guys was arrested for rape. The cops turned him over to the crew at the request of some government agency I guess. Anyway, the ship got underway, went out past the three-mile limit and hung the guy from the mast. They came back into port with him dangling there for everyone to see how Turks handle their discipline problems. Caused quite a stir for a week or so. That particular ship left early at the request of many government agencys.