What do you do for work?

tohostudios wrote:

BA in English here too.  So given how many of us ended up in something completely different I guess you can see how useful that major was.  Although I will say that the ability to communicate effectively is an absolute BOON regardless of what you do for a living.  That comes up every year in my annual review because 99% of IT people are absolutely horrendous at communicating, especially to non-technical users.  But that's where I shine.  

I also have BA in English, thou in reality I should have been for drinking beer and chasing chics

Fat Freddy wrote:

Eventually I landed a behind-the-scenes gig at the local newspaper, doing data entry, paste-ups, and layouts, and that's where I've been the last damn near 25 years. I've survived a couple of buy-outs, numerous rounds of layoff sandwiches, and God willing I hope to squeeze a few more years out of this before the Internet finishes destroying the industry altogether. I guess that makes me insanely dedicated, or simply a dumb son of a b*** who doesn't knokw how to do anything else, I haven't quite figured out which yet.

...sorry for the rant but yeah... in a nutshell, if I had it to do all over again, I would definitely do it differently, from my choice of school on down.

Freddy I feel ya and that is why I ALWAYS buy a newspaper and ask for paper bags when I go into any store. I work in the paper industry as well but a bit different from yours. I keep up with mills and such and newsprint is on the decline. What "green" people don't realize is that paper is the greenest there is as it is sustainable. Not to dereail the thread but when we harvest trees by the time we are done with the pine trees it is time to start back at the beginning of the forest. And these pine trees are grown for a single purpose - making paper. I have a bumper sticker on my truck that says "If you object to logging try using plastic toilet paper". Anyway, I hope you are able to retire from your job.

mikeinfla wrote:

Freddy I feel ya and that is why I ALWAYS buy a newspaper and ask for paper bags when I go into any store. I work in the paper industry as well but a bit different from yours. I keep up will mills and such and newsprint is on the decline. What "green" people don't realize is that paper is the greenest there is as it is sustainable. Not to dereail the thread but when we harvest trees by the time we are done with the pine trees it is time to start back at the beginning of the forest. And these pine trees are grown for a single purpose - making paper. I have a bumper sticker on my truck that says "If you object to logging try using plastic toilet paper". Anyway, I hope you are able to retire from your job.

Thanx Mike. I guess you and I are kinda in the same boat, just on different sides. I'm sure that the decline in print means that companies like mine order less material from companies like yours, so you feel the squeeze too, eh?

Our company was family owned till about three years ago, when we were bought out by Gannett/USA Today Network, so for a long time we were kinda insulated from the worst of the decline. After the purchase, suddenly we were very aware of how bad things had been! The jury's still out on whether it was a good move, but hey, as long as they keep paying me I keep showing up, haha.

We don't make newsprint, we make linerboard which is sent to box plants and made into cardboard boxes. Many of our boxes are Amazon boxes and pizza boxes. If you look on the bottom of the box and see "WestRock" that is us. I assume as long as people eat pizza and order from Amazon we will be OK. But right now sales are down and they have curtailed one of our machines until May. They said the market it soft. Our other machine makes white paper which is used as filler for diapers, tampons, hospital pads, etc. And everyone is still working even with the downtime. Not to mention Hurricane Michael did over 100 million in damages to our mill. I was afraid at first but they have a good insurance policy so if when May hits we will be back to 100 %.

And talking about college, I knew going in what I wanted to do - radio. I had known that since I was a little kid. It was the only thing I ever wanted to do because I loved music so much. it wasn't until my 3rd year I figured out the pay was lousy but I figured I could make it. On off days or weekends I used to DJ b-day parties, weddings, etc and that was all cash under the table but I started to hate drunks bothering me while I was trying to do a job.

scottmitchell74 wrote:

Uncle Saxon - You are the exception to the rule, though. It speaks to you and your drive, but still not something I'd recommend to anyone young person. I'd be curious how quickly that took place, or was your business something that was years (with lots of blood, sweat, tears, etc...) in the making?

I got into the process serving/legal support gig when I was 19. Lost my drivers licence, like, after 3 months [doing 100 mph trying to get to courthouses for late day filings before they close, etc], so they put me in the office in charge of the whole process serving dept. Learned the biz, moved to Tampa and worked as a P.I. apprentice for a year and learned a lot of tricks from a master down there. When I got back, a buddy from my first job had stolen a huge collection account from company A. I hammered on that guy for about 6 months to sell me the account. He eventually got bored and sold it to me for $1000. That is when I jumped out on my own. Turned out to be a 500k/year account after a few years! Greatest deal ever! After that, it was mainly word of mouth about my work ethic between attorneys, success rate on impossible serves, joining/creating the correct associations, hiring servers I knew personally to be exceptional, etc.

So, yeah - took a few years to become the best at what I did and get my rep out there. 14 hours days/7 days a week for a long time. But, the payoff was worth it. So I would definitely recommend my path to a young person. As long as they find something they like and are good at. F'ing with people has always been part of who I am. I found the niche where I could use that skill. Everything else was just fear of failing Auntie Saxon and the kiddo.

I have an associate's degree in specialized technology. It didn't do me much good in finding a job. Art jobs want to see the final product. They don't care how you got from Point A to Point B.

Okay, so now that we all know what we do for work, let's switch it up a bit if ya,want. What's the strangest job you've ever had?

Mine happened to be my first job. I was probably 14-15 years old, and a friend of my grandmother needed weekend help at his thrift store. It was named Mr. Santa's thrift store. Yes, he was also a Santa for hire at parties, and probably malls. It was nothing really strange, except the name though. He did have another guy working there that left me to run the store by myself while he took money out of the till and hung out at the bar on the other side of the strip mall it was in.

I had to quit after a couple months. I let slip that the other guy was taking money and drinking all day instead of working. Mr. Santa was never there to see this guy. But anyway, I narked him out, he got fired and I quit, cause I wasn't about to be there on my own with some piss drunk asshat wanting to kill me for messing up his free ride. Mr. Santa told me he wouldn't find out I was the one that got him fired, but I was so bored there anyways, it was a good excuse to leave without upsetting him or my grandmother.

My strangest job was my first summer job when I was 15 - I was an umpire for our local little league. I thought it would be easy money (they paid $15 per game, which was pretty good coin in 1985, especially if you did two or three games on a Saturday and another one or two during the week), but due to the wise-ass kids (and their parents) constantly mouthing off to me, it turned into a pretty hellish summer. I had enough when a parent threatened to "kick my ass" in the parking lot after the game cuz I'd called his kid "out" on a close play at the plate. Fortunately my Dad came to pick me up that day so as soon as the game ended, I hauled ass to the car, jumped in and said "Get outta here! Go, go, GO!" haha.

Assuming we're including one-off jobs here my strangest job was in college.

Like most college kids I was always looking for a way to make a few bucks for beer money.  One day my roommate told me he'd pulled a job posting off the campus bulletin board in the post office looking for 4 people to move bees.  The job paid $25 per person (hey this was around 1980 so that was good money back then in the pre-internet days) so I was all in.

I didn't really understand what "move bees" entailed until the guy picked us up in a rental truck at 6am the next morning.  We climbed into the back of the metal box truck and sat down on a bunch of crates of ice and off we went.  What "moving bees" means is that we were going around to various farmers' pastures and collecting wooden beehives this guy had set up and loading the hives (and the bees) into the truck.  The ice was supposed to help make the bees dormant but I found out much later the guy skimped on the amount of ice.  

I was OK for the first few stops.  The guy outfitted us with beekeeper hoods and we had been told beforehand to wear thick clothes so although I got stung a few times it wasn't too bad.  But then all hell broke loose.  For one thing, the ice in the back of the truck started to melt and with the metal flooring we couldn't keep our footing as the truck bounced along the rural roads.  Eventually somebody fell on a bee crate breaking it open and we were awash in bees.  Still, not really too bad because we had all the gear on.

But then we got to the next stop.  I hopped out to help load on the next batch of hives and one damn bee somehow managed to get under my hood and was crawling on my face!  In a panic I pulled the hood off and all the other bees in the field must have thought "Ahhhhh...bare skin!"  and they all swarmed me.  I lost count at over 100 stings.  Good thing I'm not allergic but I had so much bee venom in me that I was sort of stoned.  I didn't even do anything for the last several stops; I sat in the truck cab in a stupor.

Hardest $25 I've ever made.  The guy's wife did make us a killer breakfast when it was all over but I barely even remember it now.

Managed a local DME (Durable Medical Equipment, i.e. wheelchairs and walkers) from 17-24 with my Dad as owner. It was a wormhole. Most absurd and Dr Seuss moment of my life. So many stories, like the one with the uber-old chick, martini in one hand and cigarette in the other, dressed in nothing but an open nightgown opening the door for me to deliver her Dad's scooter. No, I was [easily] not seduced by the dark side of the Force.

These are all great, btw. Loving this thread.

corplhicks wrote:

Managed a local DME (Durable Medical Equipment, i.e. wheelchairs and walkers) from 17-24 with my Dad as owner. It was a wormhole. Most absurd and Dr Seuss moment of my life. So many stories, like the one with the uber-old chick, martini in one hand and cigarette in the other, dressed in nothing but an open nightgown opening the door for me to deliver her Dad's scooter.  No, I was [easily] not seduced by the dark side of the Force.

These are all great, btw. Loving this thread.

Oh man, that happened to me once. Little off topic, cause this has nothing to do with work. I lost a ferret when i was 16. I left flyers everywhere hoping to find him. Well this lady answered but said she didn't have mine, but raised them and would be happy to give me one. Me and my mom went to scope one out one day, and I picked one out. She said he was too young for me to take home that day, but I could come back in a week or two and get him.

So one day she called and told me he was old enough to let go and I could come get him. I show up and she answers her door in some half ass see thru skimpy night gown. She had to be fifty, but to a 16 year old, that's just nasty. But I go inside and she tells me to sit on the couch while she finds my ferret. She comes back with him and suddenly her tits are almost completely out, she sits down next to me and puts the ferret in my lap kinda close to touching Mr winky lol I jumped up grabbed the ferret and booked out of there.

Scary part was, the ferret ended up being very mean and I had to give him back to her. I made sure my mom went with me that time.

About two weeks later I get a phone call from a woman. She was talking dirty and asking me how big Mr winky was, obviously playing with herself. I thought it was some friends playing a trick on me, but then after I hung up I realized it was her.

She was a crazy bitch. She literally had over fifty ferrets in her house that mostly ran loose. The stench was unbearable. Even if I wanted to bang her, I could never get past that smell.

Man there are some stories in this thread!

tohostudios wrote:

Man there are some stories in this thread!  

Yeah, you and your bee story had me laughing. No way I would ever have gotten in that van with those things, covered or not.

Just trying to make some money before getting married and moving to Texas, I answered an ad in the paper to do deliveries for a guy who had a bunch of dogs in the middle of nowhere in Appalachia. Yeah, I was begging to get raped! Turns out it was real enough.

This guy started taking in unwanted dogs. He acquired more and more. He ended up with hundreds. He couldn't leave them alone because they had formed little packs and would kill each other. He had to stay on site to be the Alpha male of sorts; walking around with a club to break up fights! So, he hired me and my Ford Ranger to go all over the Tri-State area (Ohio, Ky, WV) picking up his donation cans, donated dog food and expired meat, his groceries, and most important of all: Keystone Light. He said he had to drink himself to sleep each night because of the dogs endlessly barking/howling/etc...

I'd roll down this crappy dirt road miles back in the "hollar" with my shocks squished to oblivion with thousands of pounds of expired meat. My poor truck!!

Weird. I felt bad for the guy. I'd do this every three weeks, and I'd be the only human contact he had for those three weeks and he'd talk my ears off.

Apparently over the years he's expanded and has help, but back then it was just him and whoever he could find to make the deliveries.

That was back in the late 90's and amazingly this place still exists. It's called The Trixie Foundation and I guess of late he's gotten into some hot water for charges of animal cruelty. I can only vouch for the time I worked for him; I saw no cruelty at the time. The dogs were healthy and loved him (even when they hated each other).


Amazing thread! It's been fun reading all of these. Amazing what we might do for a season or two to make a buck.

Side note: I quit refereeing basketball after 5 years also because of parents. Coaches you can handle/live with...and you have some recourse with them, but the parents all think their kid is the next Michael Jordan and parents are the worst people on earth!!!!!

scottmitchell74 wrote:

Just trying to make some money before getting married and moving to Texas, I answered an ad in the paper to do deliveries for a guy who had a bunch of dogs in the middle of nowhere in Appalachia. Yeah, I was begging to get raped! Turns out it was real enough.

This guy started taking in unwanted dogs. He acquired more and more. He ended up with hundreds. He couldn't leave them alone because they had formed little packs and would kill each other. He had to stay on site to be the Alpha male of sorts; walking around with a club to break up fights! So, he hired me and my Ford Ranger to go all over the Tri-State area (Ohio, Ky, WV) picking up his donation cans, donated dog food and expired meat, his groceries, and most important of all: Keystone Light. He said he had to drink himself to sleep each night because of the dogs endlessly barking/howling/etc...

I'd roll down this crappy dirt road miles back in the "hollar" with my shocks squished to oblivion with thousands of pounds of expired meat. My poor truck!!

Weird. I felt bad for the guy. I'd do this every three weeks, and I'd be the only human contact he had for those three weeks and he'd talk my ears off.

Apparently over the years he's expanded and has help, but back then it was just him and whoever he could find to make the deliveries.

That was back in the late 90's and amazingly this place still exists. It's called The Trixie Foundation and I guess of late he's gotten into some hot water for charges of animal cruelty. I can only vouch for the time I worked for him; I saw no cruelty at the time. The dogs were healthy and loved him (even when they hated each other).


Amazing thread! It's been fun reading all of these. Amazing what we might do for a season or two to make a buck.

Side note: I quit refereeing basketball after 5 years also because of parents. Coaches you can handle/live with...and you have some recourse with them, but the parents all think their kid is the next Michael Jordan and parents are the worst people on earth!!!!!

Interesting story. Thanks for sharing!

The worst job was working one summer picking dead carcasses of animals on the road. I was 19 and the neighborhood drunk who was known as Drunk Richard convinced me it was easy work, and they pay you ex amount for the pick up of each dead animal.

The problem was the stench and it was all road kill. Living in Florida, the heat, it was not pleasant. The money was good but I did not have Drunk Richard's superhuman capacity to ignore that horrible stench.

One day it was a huge cow that had been hit by a car or truck, and it was of course dead. These illegal dudes had been hauling it into their truck, when they saw the city truck, the bastard most of thought we were INS dropped the carcass and took off in their truck. I yelled after them to come back!!! That was my last day on the job, I lasted three weeks.

Drunk Richard is still drunk and still works for the city.

Wow! That has to be right up there with septic tank cleaner as contender for worst job in the world.

tohostudios wrote:

Wow!  That has to be right up there with septic tank cleaner as contender for worst job in the world.

It was terrible but paid well, nobody bothered us. It was part of the sanitation dept, mostly what we did was drive, sometimes you go pick up the dead animal and there was no animal to pick up, some predator or a citizen would have taken up on themselves to remove it. I am not even sure if the dept I worked for was dedicated solely to do this or that as a newbie it was some sort of hazing ritual, and maybe I was there two weeks not three now that I am thinking about it.

Well, this wasn't a bad job I had, but it was interesting at times. I used to do maintenance work at this motel located on the Vegas strip called fun city. Pretty much every movie based in Vegas shows the front sign of it. It was kind of a trippy place to work. You'd get the hookers, drug dealers, bums, crazy people, you name it and they came through there. Axle Rose was even married at the chapel we had that was attached to the front office.

Anyways, one day there was four dudes walking up to their room. Apparently they were all armed with shotguns, and talking crazy like they just got done robbing something or someone. A tenant overheard them talking about if the cops came they'd have to kill them before they would let them take them to jail.

So, cops were called, they all got arrested, no shots were fired, and from what I heard, they cried like bitches on their way to jail. This all happened before my shift.

So I get there, and hear what I missed, cops were leaving as I pulled in. Boss tells me to go clean up the Mess the cops left. I go in there, and on the counter is a Ziploc sandwich bag half full of white powder. Right out in the open. I'm thinking it's baking soda or something,cause no way in hell could it be cocaine otherwise the cops would have taken it. So being the good Samaritan I am, I call my boss to tell him the cops left behind some evidence. They were cooking crack in the room, so I figured it was the stuff they cut it with ya know. So, cops show back up, take a look at my find and jaws drop to the floor. It wasn't baking soda after all, it was pure white powder cocaine.

Tears almost came to my eyes, because I could have sold that shit in five minutes after work. No risk, easy money. I didn't know enough about it, cause I never had a chance to try any back then. But I k new a drug dealer that would have bought it, and had the money for that much. I still kick myself for turning it in, that would have been a nice payday back then lol

manny wrote:

The worst job was working one summer picking dead carcasses of animals on the road. I was 19 and the neighborhood drunk who was known as Drunk Richard convinced me it was easy work, and they pay you ex amount for the pick up of each dead animal.

The problem was the stench and it was all road kill. Living in Florida, the heat, it was not pleasant. The money was good but I did not have Drunk Richard's superhuman capacity to ignore that horrible stench.

One day it was a huge cow that had been hit by a car or truck, and it was of course dead. These illegal dudes had been hauling it into their truck, when they saw the city truck, the bastard most of thought we were INS dropped the carcass and took off in their truck. I yelled after them to come back!!! That was my last day on the job, I lasted three weeks.

Drunk Richard is still drunk and still works for the city.

That job would’ve been a perfect episode for the show Dirty Jobs.

Wrecked Neck wrote:

It wasn't baking soda after all, it was pure white powder cocaine.

Tears almost came to my eyes, because I could have sold that shit in five minutes after work. No risk, easy money. I didn't know enough about it, cause I never had a chance to try any back then. But I k new a drug dealer that would have bought it, and had the money for that much. I still kick myself for turning it in, that would have been a nice payday back then lol

SMFH. That's all I am willing to say.

Troublezone wrote:

manny wrote:

The worst job was working one summer picking dead carcasses of animals on the road. I was 19 and the neighborhood drunk who was known as Drunk Richard convinced me it was easy work, and they pay you ex amount for the pick up of each dead animal.

The problem was the stench and it was all road kill. Living in Florida, the heat, it was not pleasant. The money was good but I did not have Drunk Richard's superhuman capacity to ignore that horrible stench.

One day it was a huge cow that had been hit by a car or truck, and it was of course dead. These illegal dudes had been hauling it into their truck, when they saw the city truck, the bastard most of thought we were INS dropped the carcass and took off in their truck. I yelled after them to come back!!! That was my last day on the job, I lasted three weeks.

Drunk Richard is still drunk and still works for the city.

That job would’ve been a perfect episode for the show Dirty Jobs.

I believe they did do a "Dirty Jobs" episode about roadkill collectors.

Fat Freddy wrote:

Troublezone wrote:

manny wrote:

The worst job was working one summer picking dead carcasses of animals on the road. I was 19 and the neighborhood drunk who was known as Drunk Richard convinced me it was easy work, and they pay you ex amount for the pick up of each dead animal.

The problem was the stench and it was all road kill. Living in Florida, the heat, it was not pleasant. The money was good but I did not have Drunk Richard's superhuman capacity to ignore that horrible stench.

One day it was a huge cow that had been hit by a car or truck, and it was of course dead. These illegal dudes had been hauling it into their truck, when they saw the city truck, the bastard most of thought we were INS dropped the carcass and took off in their truck. I yelled after them to come back!!! That was my last day on the job, I lasted three weeks.

Drunk Richard is still drunk and still works for the city.

That job would’ve been a perfect episode for the show Dirty Jobs.

I believe they did do a "Dirty Jobs" episode about roadkill collectors.

Ok, I guess I forgot about it.

UNCLE SAXON'S KICKASS CDS wrote:

Wrecked Neck wrote:

It wasn't baking soda after all, it was pure white powder cocaine.

Tears almost came to my eyes, because I could have sold that shit in five minutes after work. No risk, easy money. I didn't know enough about it, cause I never had a chance to try any back then. But I k new a drug dealer that would have bought it, and had the money for that much. I still kick myself for turning it in, that would have been a nice payday back then lol

SMFH.  That's all I am willing to say.

Lol you can say it, I won't be offended. I'm a dipshit, I know!

Wrecked Neck wrote:

UNCLE SAXON'S KICKASS CDS wrote:

Wrecked Neck wrote:

It wasn't baking soda after all, it was pure white powder cocaine.

Tears almost came to my eyes, because I could have sold that shit in five minutes after work. No risk, easy money. I didn't know enough about it, cause I never had a chance to try any back then. But I k new a drug dealer that would have bought it, and had the money for that much. I still kick myself for turning it in, that would have been a nice payday back then lol

SMFH.  That's all I am willing to say.

Lol you can say it, I won't be offended. I'm a dipshit, I know!

That reminds me of a story one of my buddies told me.

Back in the late 80's/early 90's, he worked part time for a limo service. One night, he had to drive some big name WWE wrestlers around and drop them at the airport. The next day when he was cleaning out the back, he found a big baggie of "baking powder". Unlike the other tale, however, my friend kept said baggie and had quite a party for himself and all his friends.