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Terrible Jobs


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I worked for Toys R Us when I was a student over the Christmas period and it was absolutely awful.  The number of people who would ask you for advice on what presents to get their Grandchildren was incredible.  How the hell am I meant to know what toy Luke wants for Christmas?  The stockroom staff were awful and absolute dicks to the Christmas temps.  After Toys R Us I worked at Argos which was probably my most enjoyable job. Running around a stockroom all day, listening to music and everybody else was sound.

Most soul destroying job was working for a bank.  I was promoted from Cashier to somebody who would open accounts, issue loans etc.  The sheer amount of pressure they would put on you for loans was incredible.  I remember there was a week when I was moved to run another branch  (in charge of people for the first time) and after 2 days we had hit the weekly overall branch target.  I got a phone call on the Wednesday morning demanding to know why I was so far behind on my lending target for the week.  They were politely told to get stuffed and I had a new job elsewhere just over a month later.

 

EDIT - I was a paperboy as well when at school.  One route would pay me 2p a paper (once a week) and the other saw me do 6 mornings (1.5 each day as it was the longest route) and was paid £16 a week.

I worked in Argos stock room part time years ago as a young man (i could carry 33x buzz light year toys, 5 lampshades and a 42 inch telly in one go). Some of the best working days I’ve had, worked with boys I’m still pals with, steady supply of new female Christmas temps to romance every year. Great times.

 

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I was also a paper boy as well for the local corner shop where I grew up. The miserable twat that owned the shop paid his paper boys £3 per week(never upped in over 10 years of people I knew that worked for him) the rest of the dough was made on delivery charges and tips. Used to get about £30 a week which was decent at 13-16/17 at school.

We used to have to gather in our cash from customers and pay him our account on a Monday morning. I always used to put my cash in a air tight sealable freezer bag on a Sunday night- just in time for my Sunday dinner to have begun digestion and the broccoli and cauliflower to be taking effect I would then hold the bag to my anus and fart in it and quickly seal it up so every Monday morning when he opened my bag of cash he was met with a foul smell [emoji23][emoji106]

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Had a summer job doing 7 days a week, 16hrs a day in a dive of a village. Labouring 8-4 weekdays and site security the rest of the time. Having the odd car load of jakes/hard cases come to rob the place at least made it bearable at times.

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I was also a paper boy as well for the local corner shop where I grew up. The miserable twat that owned the shop paid his paper boys £3 per week(never upped in over 10 years of people I knew that worked for him) the rest of the dough was made on delivery charges and tips. Used to get about £30 a week which was decent at 13-16/17 at school.

We used to have to gather in our cash from customers and pay him our account on a Monday morning. I always used to put my cash in a air tight sealable freezer bag on a Sunday night- just in time for my Sunday dinner to have begun digestion and the broccoli and cauliflower to be taking effect I would then hold the bag to my anus and fart in it and quickly seal it up so every Monday morning when he opened my bag of cash he was met with a foul smell [emoji23][emoji106]

You are absolutely fucking crackers
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Yeah hes pretty wacky and zany eh. Stay out of this guys way if you dont want to fall victim to his funster japery like gobbing in folks food or farting in bags of someone elses money.

I just meant genuinely mad as a box of frogs. The lads farting in a zip n seal bag! Better than spitting in charity cookies or whatever it was though.
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34 minutes ago, The Chlamydia Kid said:

I worked in Argos stock room part time years ago as a young man (i could carry 33x buzz light year toys, 5 lampshades and a 42 inch telly in one go). Some of the best working days I’ve had, worked with boys I’m still pals with, steady supply of new female Christmas temps to romance every year. Great times.

 

Now you're just exaggerating, we all know you've not got a romantic bone in your body.

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I think a lot of kids at school don't realise how many jobs out there are actually fucking shite, and would be soul-crushingly boring to do for any longer than 5 minutes. Hear it quite a lot at school that pupils will just get a job stacking shelves or something like that. Fine doing it part-time while studying but f**k that for a career. I worked next to someone at Burger King who'd been there for 30 years and she just looked absolutely dead. Her daughter worked there too and was a bit of alright, though.

Sometimes think that instead of getting folk into schools who've done quite well we should be getting utter scumbags into school to talk to the kids. "Ah fucked up ma education, am bored as f**k and cannae dae anyhin wi ma mates cause ah've got nae fuckin money and am oan the nightshift for 12 hoors earnin shite money." That'd maybe encourage the pupils to stick in a bit.

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Also: assembly lines. I visited the Mitsbushi plant in Livingston a couple of years ago and there were genuinely folk there whose job it was to screw six screws onto an AC unit and then pass the unit along the line, for eight hours a day. f**k that shit.

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4 minutes ago, Gaz said:

Also: assembly lines. I visited the Mitsbushi plant in Livingston a couple of years ago and there were genuinely folk there whose job it was to screw six screws onto an AC unit and then pass the unit along the line, for eight hours a day. f**k that shit.

Did you ever go inside the Anechoic chamber?

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1 minute ago, The Chlamydia Kid said:


Couple of houses I delivered to use to get Sunday broadsheets. Had to break a Sunday times down to about 6 component parts to get it through a letter box- great fun on a winters morning.

I used to deliver to the big poash houses on the east side of the village I grew up in. They were all inhabited by rich old retired c***s who  didn't have to leave their house and, almost without exception, had really steep drives. In the winter they would ice like f**k and it was treacherous going up and down them. After a few close calls and me asking the owners to grit their drives (they refused) I just left their newspapers at the bottom of the drive one day. About six of them phoned in saying it was dangerous for them to go down the drive in case they slipped and broke their leg on the ice. The owner of the newsagent, to his credit, told them that it was equally dangerous for me and that I'd asked them to grit their drives and they refused, plus I actually had school to go to rather than staying in all day watching repeats of 15-to-1 (might not have been his exact words).

One-up me!

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12 minutes ago, Gaz said:

Also: assembly lines. I visited the Mitsbushi plant in Livingston a couple of years ago and there were genuinely folk there whose job it was to screw six screws onto an AC unit and then pass the unit along the line, for eight hours a day. f**k that shit.

Not everyone is a high achiever. If there wasn't thick/unambitious/lazy people your life would  be much poorer.

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1 minute ago, The Chlamydia Kid said:


Mine would have sacked my shop was a good mile walk from where I finished near my house. If I got to the end and discovered I’d not enough papers to finish the run it was soul destroying.

I can still remember most of my round sheet.

There were some good folk, though. This old boy got the Racing Post delivered every day and used to spend a couple of minutes telling me about his wins and losses. If he'd had a big win he'd throw a couple of quid my way and tell me a horse that was a dead cert to win in some obscure race in Chepstow or some other back-of-beyond shitehole. Didn't have the heart to tell him I was only 14 years old and couldn't get into a bookies

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Just now, Sergeant Wilson said:

Not everyone is a high achiever. If there wasn't thick/unambitious/lazy people your life would  be much poorer.

My job would be fucking easier, though. Can't the thick / unambitious / lazy people all stay in the other end of the country?

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1 minute ago, Gaz said:

My job would be fucking easier, though. Can't the thick / unambitious / lazy people all stay in the other end of the country?

Could you not just move.

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3 minutes ago, Gaz said:

I can still remember most of my round sheet.

There were some good folk, though. This old boy got the Racing Post delivered every day and used to spend a couple of minutes telling me about his wins and losses. If he'd had a big win he'd throw a couple of quid my way and tell me a horse that was a dead cert to win in some obscure race in Chepstow or some other back-of-beyond shitehole. Didn't have the heart to tell him I was only 14 years old and couldn't get into a bookies

Can't remember having that problem all the time in Ayr.

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