I temped at a cookie company for a couple days. The short appearance at that place was due to the fact that when you find mosquitoes in the packaging barrels you're about to fill with cookies, you get yelled at for discarding the package. Apparently, you just dump out the mosquito carcass and fill it anyway.
I've just helped you start a diet, haven't I?
I used to have energy, so I often worked a couple jobs at a time to up the funds. Until I managed to run myself down so much that I got mono and had to accept that hey, one job is plenty, dumbass.
I've packed dinnerware, an explanation that apparently sounds shaky when someone asked you why you slashed your wrists. See, they don't believe the cardboard packaging is responsible for that, even though IT IS TOO. I worked at a plastics manufacturer as a bottle inspector, where on my first day, I was told that it's okay to fall asleep because it's impossible to stare at bottles all day and stay awake. I also found that the floor hurts when you fall asleep and thus fall off your stool.
I think the most depressing gig I ever had was working at a video store with a back room, though it definitely results in some interesting stories, and memories you can't shake no matter how much brain bleach you use. I still remember the names of the couple who loved La Parfum de Matilde, or whatever the name was for that goofy porno. I also remember they thought the names of the Three Musketeers were great inspiration for their own kids' names.
New release days were always fun. Try shrink-wrapping Gidget the Midget and Saving Ryan's Privates during Family Rental Happy Hour. Sorry, kid, that isn't the Inspector Gadget you want to rent. Trust me.
And of course there's the day that someone decided it would be a hoot to record a porno over a Mary Kate and Ashley movie. And naturally, who rented that movie? A freaking pastor. I think we had to give him free rentals for life after that.
The best part was this place was run by people who really thought they were entrepreneurs, so every month, we had to contend with a new scheme. First, the tanning beds, which worked well enough, I suppose. But then they decided they were going to be a photo lab too. Which never happened because they never got around to finishing the photo lab. But everyday, we had to start up the stupid Fuji film machine, balance stuff, pour water into slots, and get it ready for nothing. Ever.
Actually, we had one customer, because somebody figured out how to at least make negatives. So he always came in for negatives. And I guess he went elsewhere for the actual photos. Who knows?
The outdoor store, now that was an experience. Overall, I kinda dug working there. Fun co-workers, strange customers, and so forth. One employee was a witch. The other ended up being my landlord for a while, going so far as to kindly sit out back with a huge gun when we had trouble with some people obviously intent on breaking in. Some customer had no voicebox or something, and had to use that vibrating thinger so he could talk? So he'd come in at random intervals to berate employees in vibration.
I was notorious for being a dumbass who said, "Ooh, check out the moose," when a giant elk trophy was delivered to the store. Other than that, I got into the theme of the store, mocking be damned. I learned how to fish, and caught ginormous bass that eventually shut the nay-sayers up. Never mind the fact that one of the employees turned fishing teachers decided that meeting at the lake in a group meant I loved him and wanted him to leave his wife for me. And trust me, I didn't. Awkward.
I used to goof around with the various waterfowl and game calls. More mocking ensued, until the day I lured a flock of geese into the parking lot.
Guys, don't mock a girl out of her element. She may fight back and make you look like a weenie in the end.
Outdoors stores have grossness, though. One guy brought in a deer head in a plastic grocery bag to show off the rack he bagged. Unfortunately, he decided to put it ON MY DESK. That mistake never happened twice. I was in charge of the inventory stuff, so imagine the cussing and yelling that ensued every time some cashier actually approved a return on a deer cart that was covered in blood and fur. Or on a Monday morning when I would come in to find a pile of broken jars of liquid deer lures: Doe in Estrus, Buck Urine, and on and on. Yes. Hunters apply synthetic pee to their boots when they hunt. Neat, eh?
Okay, I'm rambling. But the point has been made. I've had some weird-ass jobs over the years. So, tell me about your weirdest or most obnoxious jobs? You know you had them, so spill!