We've all had shitty jobs, and that's something that can bring us together during these extremely confusing times if you ask me. Whether it was the job itself, your coworkers, the hours, your boss or a combination of any of these, everyone has had THAT job. While I understand no one wants to read about a college kid bitch about a shitty job when others are unemployed because of the 'Rona and have real problems unlike myself who is just worried about how I'm going to deal with online college.
When I think of the worst job I've ever had, I'm able to narrow it down to two fairly easy. I spent about 6 months working at a Local Sports Store as my first "real" job in high school and this past year I worked at one of the slower bars on campus for about a month. After barbacking for 8 hours on a night that was shoulder to shoulder the entire night and getting tipped out $20 I knew this job wasn't for me- especially when the Rugby team and their families ran up a $4,500 tab. That was enough of that and I worked one more shift, this one in the kitchen, just so I was able to abuse my free meal one last time and I feasted like it was 1621 in Plymouth and the harvest was a success.
When I was driving to go babysit (the wage gap is real with babysitting), I saw a we're hiring sign in the parking lot of the local sports store where I'd bought virtually all of my baseball equipment for my entire life. I knew more about baseball bats and gloves than your average joe, it only made sense in my mind that I'd be a valuable asset in the retail section of the store, and guess what? The owner thought so too during my interview!
Well what'd you know, my first day I'm put in the warehouse and am being taught how to weigh packages and write out shipping labels by a 29-year old man who I thought was about 18 until my last week at work. I thought maybe I wasn't in the storefront because the store was installing an electronic punch in system, that's right! The end of 2017 was when they decided that hand written timecards probably weren't efficient, but I'll always have a little bit of respect for my manager after he chuckled when he told me my employee number was 16569. I guess guys never do grow up.
But a few weeks go by and I'm still not working in the retail department, I'm working in the warehouse, sorting through shipments we'd receive, restocking the store, and managing the warehouse. You read that right- a part-time, high school student was "promoted" within a month to manage the warehouse because of how "efficient and competent," I was. Not losing paperwork was enough to be called efficient and competent and I was on top of the world until I realized I wasn't going to get a raise and it was their strategy to get me to not attend college in the fall and join their sales team. A future of selling uniforms to little league's across the Chicagoland area wasn't what I was looking to spend the rest of my life doing, but I was told to keep it in the back of my mind.
What could've been
The job wasn't all that bad until I was asked to sort an order of over 5,000 pairs of baseball/softball socks. There were four sizes and every color of the rainbow with different shades to match. Cardinal red, brick, regular red, forrest green, dark green, olive green, tan and brown. Easy task if you're able to differentiate between red, green and brown. Easy, but time consuming. I told my boss I was colorblind when he first assigned me to the project, but he didn't acknowledge it. The only way I'm able to describe it was as if Stevie Wonder was actually blind and trying to play the piano. Just wasn't happening.
Blind my ass
But after 5 shifts or so, my boss began to question my efficiency and competence. He snaked up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder because I was wearing headphones. Sidenote: I was the only employee he let wear headphones in the warehouse because I convinced him I was listening to audiobooks for my AP English class at the time. My coworkers slowly began to turn on me, but I'd had enough of hearing the same 8 songs on 50's on 5 every shift. Still can sing every word to this song on command. Back to the story, I let him know again that I was colorblind and that's why it was taking me so long and he paces off muttering fuck and God damn it under his breath because the project wasn't done, and the real boss, his dad, was walking in shortly.
Then about 15 minutes later, over the PA like a kid being called down to the principal's office for throwing something across the lunchroom, "Joe to the upstairs office. Joe to the upstairs office....NOW!" And just like that, I was on the same level as a 55 year-old man and partial owner of a large, local sports store. I ended up working at the store for a few more months, and while I won't reveal much more about how unethical the store was, I will say that I was told to lie about the weight on the largest international shipment the store has each year because the conversions confused me.
After making $10 an hour and still babysitting pretty frequently on the side and paying for prom, I felt comfortable quitting headed into the summer with my graduation party still on deck as well. Because I was too big of a coward to put in my two-week's notice, I told my boss I needed to stop working immediately because my grades were suffering and I was going to lose a large scholarship from the University of Illinois. Imagine that, a middle-class, white kid having a scholarship from the University of Illinois.
Never had one shift in the retail department, either.
Have any bad job stories? I'd love to hear yours on Twitter @The1nnKeeper_
-The Inn Keeper