What's the Most Ridiculous Job You Ever Had

Norm

Norm

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I drove a small electric truck when I was in college (University of Pennsylvania) all over the campus bringing books from one library to another. When I wasn't getting laughed at I offered rides to pretty girls to get them to class faster (it's an enormous campus). Sometimes, if it was raining, and they were late enough to class, they'd actually accept.

I also cut rat's tails to get blood samples in a research lab.

Of course the absolute most ridiculous job was sticking tubes up...well I guess you know about that one.
 
I guess mine was standing on a 3x5 rubber matt for 12 hour shifts stuffing 24 packages of Northern Quilted Bathroom Tissue into boxes.... Over and over.... never ending. A typical shift box count was 2,100 - 2,500 cases of arse paper... UGH! That was between 12 and 16 moves a minute... 4 moves to fill a box with 6 packages on each move.

I about went nuts!
 
I drove and managed a local Taxi Company. The company was called "Tipsy Taxi". We operated between 9PM and 3AM and drove around all of the drunk college students. In vans.... So picture this... 6-10 screaming drunken college kids in the back of the van... driving at night... inevitably, one would jump in the front seat and deem themselves Radio God... and in their position as Radio God, they thought they got to control volume and station.... Then... you have the ones that puke in the van... and the ones that make you pull over every 2 miles so they can get out and puke... in which case, they all get out of the van and wander up and down the road...

Before that... I worked as an electrician for Commercial, Industrial, Agricultural, and Residential.... So... animal barns... crawlspaces.. attics full of insulation... had to crawl into the back of refrigeration units full of rotting meat... to run wire... new construction outside on 105 degree days... and on 18 degree days... had to be to work by 7... so up by 5:30... then worked till 3:30 there.. and drove to my dad's motorcycle shop and worked till 6PM... at the time, my soon to be wife and I were dating... and she lived 2 hours away... so each week of this was topped off by driving 3 hours to her place... spending the weekend there... and then driving back Sunday night at 9 PM... getting home at midnight... then starting the work week all over again...

Before that... I was in the Army for 5 years... Cuba, Kosovo, Afghanistan... and of course 18 months in Iraq... As a Cavalry Scout.... goooooooooood times.
 
I know thinking of some of the jobs I had before makes me appreciate life now a little better. BTW, thank you both for your service (Eric, I believe I heard you say you were in the service?).
 
FZ1inNH said:
I guess mine was standing on a 3x5 rubber matt for 12 hour shifts stuffing 24 packages of Northern Quilted Bathroom Tissue into boxes.... Over and over.... never ending. A typical shift box count was 2,100 - 2,500 cases of arse paper... UGH! That was between 12 and 16 moves a minute... 4 moves to fill a box with 6 packages on each move.

I about went nuts!
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Hey Eric, Do you know if they are hiring over there??:yes:
 
I don't know if I've ever had a ridiculous job but my first job was probably the quickest job ever in the history of employment. I was 15 and my father wanted me out in the workplace. He told me that a friend of his owned a supermarket in Jackson Heights, Queens. (NY). My father told me he needed a stockboy to stock shelves and price the products. I figured great! The guy even picked me up and drove me there. On the way he lectured me on how it was very respectable to start on the bottom and work your way up the ranks. A warning flag immediately went up in my head. I figured that "stockboy" was pretty low, so how bad could it be? Right?....Wrong!! We pulled up to the store and he led me inside, filled out some forms, gave me an apron, and said follow me. We walked right past all the aisles and past a room of marking guns and came to a door that said basement. Another bad sign! He led me downstairs and I asked him why we were going to the basement. He reminded me of our little lecture on the way over about starting on the bottom. He wasn't kidding! I winds up that his trash compactor had been broken for about 5 weeks and he needed me to take all the trash back out, cut up all the cardboard boxes, bag the trash, and bring everything upstairs for pick-up. He gave me a box cutter and a ball of twine and told me that he'd be back to get me at lunchtime. Away he went upstairs, leaving me alone with box cutter in hand. There was one 60 watt bulb hanging on a lamp cord just above the compactor door. As I stood quietly there I could swear that I heard something rustling around in the compactor. I attributed it to the spookiness of the basement and reached in for the first box. As I lifted the box, a waterbug the size of Manhattan came darting out at me! Holy Sh%t!!! I dropped the box, pulled off my apron, threw the box cutter down, and headed upstairs. As I came through the door, the owner was sitting there doing paperwork. He asked me if I had to use the restroom or something. I told him that if the restroom was anything like the basement, that I would wait until I got home! I told him that his box cutter and apron was downstairs and that he could go get them if he wanted, because the only place I was going was to the train to go home! I told him thanks but if thats what he meant by "starting on the bottom", then I would rather not work at all. I told him thanks for the opportunity but he needed someone else for that job. The best part was that I had never been to that part of Queens and had just enough pocket change to get on the train back home. I remember that a very nice lady outside the store had given me wonderful instructions on which train to take, and an hour and a half later I was back home. My father was pissed to say the least, but I didn't care. I told him that I was management material and that I needed to aim a tiny bit higher. He wound up punishing me for a week for embarrassing him. I happily took the week's punishment. God's honest story!
 
FZ1riderNY said:
I don't know if I've ever had a ridiculous job but my first job was probably the quickest job ever in the history of employment. I was 15 and my father wanted me out in the workplace. He told me that a friend of his owned a supermarket in Jackson Heights, Queens. (NY). My father told me he needed a stockboy to stock shelves and price the products. I figured great! The guy even picked me up and drove me there. On the way he lectured me on how it was very respectable to start on the bottom and work your way up the ranks. A warning flag immediately went up in my head. I figured that \"stockboy\" was pretty low, so how bad could it be? Right?....Wrong!! We pulled up to the store and he led me inside, filled out some forms, gave me an apron, and said follow me. We walked right past all the aisles and past a room of marking guns and came to a door that said basement. Another bad sign! He led me downstairs and I asked him why we were going to the basement. He reminded me of our little lecture on the way over about starting on the bottom. He wasn't kidding! I winds up that his trash compactor had been broken for about 5 weeks and he needed me to take all the trash back out, cut up all the cardboard boxes, bag the trash, and bring everything upstairs for pick-up. He gave me a box cutter and a ball of twine and told me that he'd be back to get me at lunchtime. Away he went upstairs, leaving me alone with box cutter in hand. There was one 60 watt bulb hanging on a lamp cord just above the compactor door. As I stood quietly there I could swear that I heard something rustling around in the compactor. I attributed it to the spookiness of the basement and reached in for the first box. As I lifted the box, a waterbug the size of Manhattan came darting out at me! Holy Sh%t!!! I dropped the box, pulled off my apron, threw the box cutter down, and headed upstairs. As I came through the door, the owner was sitting there doing paperwork. He asked me if I had to use the restroom or something. I told him that if the restroom was anything like the basement, that I would wait until I got home! I told him that his box cutter and apron was downstairs and that he could go get them if he wanted, because the only place I was going was to the train to go home! I told him thanks but if thats what he meant by \"starting on the bottom\", then I would rather not work at all. I told him thanks for the opportunity but he needed someone else for that job. The best part was that I had never been to that part of Queens and had just enough pocket change to get on the train back home. I remember that a very nice lady outside the store had given me wonderful instructions on which train to take, and an hour and a half later I was back home. My father was pissed to say the least, but I didn't care. I told him that I was management material and that I needed to aim a tiny bit higher. He wound up punishing me for a week for embarrassing him. I happily took the week's punishment. God's honest story!
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That's a great story Billy! You got balls for sure. At 15 years old I'd have stayed down there with bugs crawling on me and cursed my fate, being the weenie I am.
 
hmmm---

I started out mowing lawns when I was seven -- should of never gave it up b/c I made good money -- by the time I turned 16, I thought I'd step up an get a summer job. I then became an employee within the Parks and Recreation department as a Lifeguard for the city of Wichita. For the next 8 summers, I chased the sun, eventually ran the place and spent many a morning in the pool cleaning but also getting rid of my hangover from the night before.

If it is used in a pool, or can end up in one, I've seen it. Nobody ever drowned or was seriously injured on my tenure and did alot of maintenance around there to try and get it back up to snuff. It was until one day when I was teaching someone how to change out the chlorine bottles that I basically got trapped in the room with a leaking bottle -- never said anything or reported it, but was an experience that I soon would not forget.

By that time -- I was in college and got into djing. First mobile frat parties, then landed into an occassional bar situation to a resident spot where I could of been considered one of the top 3 in the immediate area. Retro/hip-hop/dance/underground/raves -- did it all. Again consumed beaucoups amounts of alcohol and smokes, but did not have a pool to alleviate the pain in the morning.

I finally burned out of college and the college scene and moved to K.C. Kansas where I got a job working for the largest family owned fence company in the area, Burge Fence. Stated out as an installer but then got moved into the yard and started cutting all the orders and basically running things to keep the ship going. Was fun, but when I saw people getting promotions and higher pay and they did not know how to do their job w/o being told each day what they had to do, moved next door to become a framer.

Another family owned company doing custom homes and supplying steel for residential/commercial. I had only been in it for about 1 month, when the brothers working for the company, up and left. I was asked if I wanted to join, but I didn't know them well enough to risk not having any work. (I would latter come back to work for them and learned more than I could of ever hoped to for residential framing).

I was then the only "gringo" with a newly amassed crew that was fresh from crossing the border and put "in charge" of future projects and basically learned on the fly framing and spanish.

after about one year of the BS, I hooked up with the original crew and with 3 people, 2700 sf home in about 3 weeks -- we would show up into a neighborhood and if crews were already out of the basement and going towards the 2nd, we put it in overdrive and would not stop until we caught up and passed. Needless to say we had more work than we knew what to do with b/c the other home builders were always knocking on our doors to frame a house for them to keep them on schedule.

......we got a 5000sf home and in 10 days time, with all 3 crews (12 total) we were off the job in 10 days.....

Then went back to school -- got my BA in Biology and moved to NM to get into the construction market out here. Wood refinishing/steel building/residential/log homes/anything to put $$ in the bank and food on the table.

This time in my life was probably my most ridiculous job b/c every 30 days I had to train someone new or replace everyone (only running two max) b/c they would take the job skills and try and go do it for themselves -- and really just made more work for me b/c I'd be the one coming back to fix it all. Just the headache of keeping employees was enough to drive me nuckin' futs....

Did that for almost 5 years and then moved Albuquerque and went to work with a large contractor and did 450+k square feet of government office buildings and tenant improvements over the next 2 1/2 years.

finally have the right scenario, consultant for yet another family business and just this past week broke off to tackle doing other hotel projects across the US (b/c I had soo much fun on the reservation in Tuba City) bidding two projects as we speak and have another 10 in the wings --

I know this was a story about the most ridiculous jobs -- but in their own right, each had their own little hiccups.....but I guess that I must be enjoying some aspect of them b/c I keep waking up to go to work the next day.....
 
recycling car battries

I left college after my sophomore year, partly out of boredom and partly to make lots of money as a commercial fisherman. When I arrived in Seattle I soon learned boat captains were hiring, but only experienced fishermen. I paced the docks for some weeks looking for work, but eventually gave up on the dream of a years salary for three months of fishing. Since I still had to eat and pay rent, I went to work at a battery recycling plant working the graveyard shift. And there it is-the worst job. I spent every work hour doing one thing: lifting old car batteries on to a conveyor belt:doh2:. I survived and eventually returned to college. Now I'm the President of the United States-naw, not really-but I'm not lifting batteries onto a conveyor belt. :america:
 
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