Ever have a sh*tty job that you wanted to complain about in a weekly submission-based column named after Blink-182 lyrics? Send your submissions to worksuxiknow[at]gmail.com!
I used to work at a movie theater. One day, a woman reported some guy outside lifting skirts and grabbing boobs. A month later we hired him as an usher.
I used to work at a toy store during holiday seasons. I once had a customer ask me if we had any Superman action figures, so I lead her to where they were located. She then screamed at me because they weren't what her son wanted. I didn't know what I did wrong, so I asked her to describe what she wanted. She replied "Superman. The hero guy who wears blue and red." So I pointed at the same shelf again, which caused her to shout more obscenities at me, and walked off. About 2 minutes later, she came back and shoved a Spider-man figure in my face. She then said "Superman. Wears blue and red. Was that so hard?" and called me a "dumbass". All of this happened while she was carrying an action figure that clearly reads "SPIDER-MAN" on the packaging.
I work at a thrift store in a small hick town and for whatever reason the old and obese alike like to pass gas in my direction. I was putting stuff on a shelf that was low and had to be on my knees to reach. It was relatively early in the morning, so I yawned. As soon as I inhaled an elderly woman farted right in my face.
So I worked at this cafe for a year as a bus boy and food runner, but from time to time I did little odd jobs that didn't involve serving food or cleaning the restrooms. One day my boss comes up to me and says there is a birds nest outside above some of the patio tables and he wants it gone. Oddly enough, watching three baby birds fall 12ft to their deaths isn't as traumatizing as you might think, but putting their little lifeless corpses into a trash bag while dining customers watch kind of made me feel bad. So as I passed some of the cafe's glaring patrons on the way to the dumpster, I addressed them using the old Nuremberg defense: "Just following orders."
As a 13-year-old, I worked for a local paintball field where I continuously got shot, worked in blistering heat and gave up 8-6 both Saturday and Sunday. The crowning jewel on this one? I just did some calculating and found that the points we were paid in totaled about $22.50/day or $2.25/hour.
I work at a plus-sized clothing store in a wealthy suburb of Chicago. I am always asked by other associates to do the bra fittings for the customers that are interested in our bras. Sometimes I have to instruct the woman to lift up her fat rolls so I can do an accurate measurement, move the tape measure away from their un-shaven armpits, or be invited into a fitting room with a completely naked obese woman who doesnt understand how a bra-fit works. The worst part, however, is when the women dont want to be measured and would rather have you reach into their sweaty clothes and search around for a size tag for either their bra or their panties.
So today at work was the day corporate was supposed to come by for a visit, so everyone was on their A-game. Late in the afternoon, I got my period (a week early) and subsequently asked my manager if I could go home early. She told me to wait for corporate, because they were "only half an hour away." An hour an a half later, they finally showed up, ten minutes before my shift was to end anyway. I had to stand around at work in period-stained pants for two hours.