Worst non-journo job you've ever had

I don't think this has been done at any LJS I've been to.

After college, worked for about six months doing airport security. This was in the mid-80s, so not quite as intense as in this post-9/11 era. But was in the international terminal at SFO, and dealing with the language barrier was a pain. Then there were those who didn't want to check their favorite club and thought it would be OK to bring it on the plane. About once a month, their was one idiot who thought it would be funny to say they had a bomb. Always bought the cops quickly. But, hey, stewardesses ... About six months into the job, the SID at my college called and said he needed help. Basically, my old job in my student days, but everything was rushed since there were a few weeks before the start of baseball season and nothing had been done for the media guide. Paid about two-thirds of what I was making at the airport, but I was back in show business.

After the season, got another security gig for about a month at a dorm at Stanford that was the Olympic Village for the soccer matches. Heard several stories of East German players checking in just before dawn. One week there was a high school cheer camp at an adjacent dorm. Hour after hour of "Ready? Okay!" But during all this, landed my first full-time job in the business,

 

Jesus dude, you've taken to the search function like a 13-year-old to his dick!

 

As for my shittiest non-journo jobs, good lord. One summer in college I worked in a mailroom. For some inexplicable reason, I was allowed to drive a forklift. I was having a terrible time fitting the stock in a certain spot and in the process of furiously putting the forklift in reverse and drive, I managed to cut the gas line. I didn't know this, and eventually stormed out to get some lunch. Came back an hour later to find the entire fire department there. Had anyone lit a match in the interim, they would have blown up a whole city block. That was the last time I ever operated a forklift.

The next summer, I worked at a local dump spray painting garbage cans. Took about a week before I realized I was allergic to the spray paint. Nobody liked that the geeky college kid couldn't handle the spray paint, so I bore some abuse that summer. I was also stringing for the local paper and spent many afternoons arguing with one particular idiot about the liberal media. I have no doubt he's got a shitty Twitter account and a shitty truck filled with MAGA stickers.

But nearly blowing up a city block and wheezing from spray paint were nothing compared to working a temp job at Publishers Clearinghouse after getting laid off from a sportswriting gig. I was told it was a copy editor job, but it was unlike any copy editor job I'd ever seen. Publishers Clearinghouse didn't subscribe to the usual rules of the English language. They had their own rules, which I forgot about while comparing pages upon pages upon pages of shitty contest fine print in search of the one or two changes I had to make. It was the fucking worst. I started showing up later and later before they finally told the temp agency my services were no longer required. It was a massive relief. Also, don't be fooled by the commercials, nobody ever fucking wins in Publishers Clearinghouse.

 

I worked 3 summers after high school and during college at a Sherwin-Williams plant that produced paint rollers and metal paint trays.

First summer - worked in shipping and receiving. Pretty easy unless they made a certain type of roller, which they could produce by the zillions. For each pallet of rollers or trays, we had to wrap the pallet with metal strapping. Most times it was easy, but these days, it was non-stop. The rest of the time it was loading trucks, moving things with the fork lift, etc. Oh, this was 1966, so the hourly wage was $1.95.

Second summer - worked on the production line. That meant either rotating on 3 presses that made paint trays, or operating a hand crank to make paint rollers. That wasn't bad, since the hourly expectation was 60 an hour, one a minute. Work like hell for 30 minutes, then coast the next 30. This year, when they shut down the plant for a week for vacation, those of us who were summer help kept working, painting, cleaning machinery, etc. We had to paint this huge concrete block back wall yellow.

Third summer - They were shutting down the second shift for the summer, so I was put in as the 4-midnight night watchman. After the office people left, I was the only guy in the plant. I had to make rounds every hour with a punch clock, but otherwise it was just being there. If the weather was good, I would stand outside the far end with my portable radio listening to baseball games.

 

Grocery store, fast food, dishwashing machine at the student union in college ... all had their good and bad points.

Worst was probably closing shift at the Taco John's in downtown Iowa City, 1992-93. (I may have served some of you Potato Oles!). Two people closed, and after finally chasing all the drunks out the door, you either had to clean the bathrooms or wash a mountain of dishes. Even though it meant scrubbing away caked-on grease and refried beans, I always chose the kitchen duty if I could.

Most interesting night on the job — shortly before I quit — was when a couple of large gentleman came in and said they were taking the ice machine. Apparently management had missed a few payments, and they were told to repo it. I eventually got the manager on the phone and they were talked out of it. From that point on (until the location was closed in a couple months), we showed up ASAP when checks were issued and proceeded directly to the bank.

 

Mascot for Kings Dominion amusement Park in Doswell, Va. (Charlotte the Pig, Templeton the Rat, Fred Flinstone, etc.) Hot, miserable work. The best was Yogi Bear. He had feet and fingers (we signed autographs ("Impeach Nixon, Yogi Bear").

Boring production work at Janosco Food Equipment Corp., southside Richmond. One day we had to individually wrap, pack and box about 3,000 ashtrays for some military base. Pay was great, though, two afternoons a week and we cleared about $40, real money in the early/mid 1970s.

Delivering the Richmond T-D to the dorms at Three Chopt Tech. Had to get up at 5:30 every morning, tough gig for a social college kid. Some Friday or Saturday nights we just didn't go to sleep and delivered at about 3:30 a.m.

Working in the dishroom at St. Christopher's School, cleaning up for the West End's elite.

Changing the marquee on my hometown theater in the WNY snowbelt in the winter, after working the concession stand (to this day I fucking hate Charlie the Lonesome Cougar and the 800 kids who jammed the place on Saturday afternoon matinees).

But compared to some on this thread, it's been a dream.

 

I have no experience being a mascot. However, as PIO/marketing guy for community college I was shooting a video that included our mascot.
Borrowed mascot costume from cheer squad but not the student who wore it. Used one of my student employees from the print shop.
We took a break after shooting the first segment. She takes the costume's head off and says 'It smells like salami in there!'

 

Worst? Clearing cedar saplings from 55 acres of ranch land in the dead of summer, using garden shears.

I quit after one day, and couldn't walk upright for four days after.

 

Too bad they didn't use Peanuts characters.