The Absolute Worst Working Environment? 1716
goodEvans writes "As I write this, there is a window open behind me with a small jet engine outside. This is supplying vast amounts of compressed air to the aircraft undergoing heavy maintenance in the hangar right outside my door. There is a 6-inch diameter air hose going through the office and out the door. All this requires that I sit at my desk wearing a body warmer to keep out the cold, and both ear defenders AND ear plugs to keep out the noise! And this will go on for half a day once a week! What are the worst conditions you have ever had to work under?" Can you top that? (If top is the word ...)
Asume Yorkshire accent: (Score:5, Funny)
Oh, ay. And you try and tell the young people of today that, and they won't believe you.
Re:Asume Yorkshire accent: (Score:5, Funny)
Luxury! I have to take my wireless laptop into the bathroom with me and multitask to increase productivity!
Re:Asume Yorkshire accent: (Score:5, Funny)
Re:Asume Yorkshire accent: (Score:4, Funny)
Wow! You get to go to the bathroom?
Re:Asume Yorkshire accent: (Score:5, Interesting)
The first was an office, writing SGML. (Bad enough) The office was actually a corridor, no windows, linoleum floor, and rather than desks, the working area was a length of kitchen worktop down one side of the corridor, where I worked with three others. The corridor had used to be a fire escape, 'til an extension was put on - so at the end of the corridor was a door with a sign on it that read "NO EXIT". Demoralising isn't in it.
Before working in IT, I did some warehouse work. This was the second worst working environment I've dealt with - working for a supermarket chain, this particular warehouse simply cleaned the green plastic trays that held vegetables and fruit in the supermarkets. So yes, there was plenty of opportunity for rotting fruit/veg too.
The actual work consisted of two jobs - you could either load the trays onto the cleaning machine, or load them off the machine and stack them. Soul-destroying.
Re:Asume Yorkshire accent: (Score:5, Interesting)
We would get out there at ~3AM or whenever we hit low temp, typically -30 degrees fahrenheit, and try to keep tires on cars driving fast on a deiced track.
The wind would bite, the hours sucked, and if you've never had to emergency jack an SUV at 50 below at 3AM, you've never felt true cold before.
Re:Asume Yorkshire accent: (Score:5, Funny)
And yeah, I had to walk a mile or more to school in this kind of weather, for my entire educational career.
<troll>
Which, since you pick dog shit for a living, I assume was not very long?
</troll>
Re:Asume Yorkshire accent: (Score:5, Funny)
Hosing poo, trying not to be splashed, while wondering "Is this one of the cages with the SIV poo?" SIV is Simian HIV. Or maybe it'll be a Hepatitis C monkey cage. It won't kill monkeys, but it'll kill humans.
But hey, it's winter so the poo isn't as stinky and there's no flies & mosquitos. I'd much rather freeze my ass off then wonder if I'm getting bitten by an mosquito that's been dining off an infected research monkey.
Last month they did some work on bubonic plague monkeys. I can't wait for the R.A.G.E. monkeys. Then I'll have an excuse for my upcoming killing spree.
Question: (Score:5, Funny)
Re:Question: (Score:5, Insightful)
And to the AC post, yup, that's the place, and those are the monkeys. Are monkeys into anal? I just know they like the doggy style position. I guess that does explain the gay monkey pr0n in all the bathrooms. And I just thought the doctors were kinky.
Re:do you worry about any other diseases? (Score:5, Funny)
Re:do you worry about any other diseases? (Score:5, Funny)
Quit joking around, we want serious solutions: not your unrealistic expectations.
Re: What, you mean you work for SCO? (Score:4, Funny)
You mean you work for SCO both as a programmer and as a lawyer?
Re: What, you mean you work for SCO? (Score:5, Funny)
> You mean you work for SCO both as a programmer and as a lawyer?
Come on, SCO is a software company... They don't hire programmers.
Existential (Score:5, Funny)
You are a character from a Jean Paul Sartre book, aren't you?
My short job last year (Score:5, Interesting)
After the very first night, I came home freaked. The mainframe was a big IBM OS/2 machine, but connected to it were several absolutely ancient terminals running custom-written FORTRAN operating applications. These things were so horrible that I felt as though I had been transported back in time 20 years. Green and black monochrome screens, strange keyboards with weird keys I'd never seen, and lists of tabular data with no sane cursor control--for instance, to set an option for a certain batch job, you would have to move the cursor down through the list to the two underline characters sitting to the left of it and enter it there. It was a free cursor you could move anywhere over any text--apparently the software just checked if there were characters typed at a certain location on the screen.
Along with that, you set things by typing in "P" or "Q" or whatever else into those little areas. There were entire sequences of function keys, letters to put next to jobs, certain ones to put in at certain times, and sitting beside these terminals a big tape drive machine. Behind me were two walls filled from floor to ceiling with garbled tape names like "PVADGH6," divided by day, week, and year. There was a sequence to these that I had to remember, or I would have to start all over. We're talking bank data here, so it would really fuck things up to get it wrong.
Along with learning that, there was a huge, massive printer I had to learn, and during the process, I also had to go over to some Windows 95 machines and use batch commands to dial in and update ATM machines. I also had to go to other rooms in the building and type in arcane commands to do certain things there, but dependent on other things. I'm barely skimming the surface here--there was an entire four-to-six hour process literally consisting of step after step after step after step, all completely arbitrary and insane. The only break was one of about 45 minutes somewhere in the middle.
The operator training me was a redneck guy who had been here so long, the entire process was completely memorized to him. He smoked smelly cigars, was annoyingly talkative, and was constantly making fun of the gay guy who worked next door and who would come in late sometimes to work on things. He kept trying to What's worse, he wasn't computer saavy at all--he had just had this process memorized, and it contained all his unintelligent quirks.
On my last day, about a week into it, he had decided to let me start tackling things by myself. I get the first few steps down, because that's how you learn after just a week--the first parts first. I'm still trying to remember crap like "set all P jobs to J, but make sure GH828G6 is in drive A before pressing F8, but only after the SHEV jobs have gone through by midnight," and I totally start fucking absolutely everything up with the tape back ups, with the job sends, with everything. He actually gets annoyed with me, and doesn't criticize me directly but says things as he fixes them, like "Now we have to wait because all this other shit is running." I think I was there until 6 or 7 in the morning. The sun was up when I got to the car.
I just didn't bother to show up the next Monday. I collected my check later and left. The boss handed me the check in the lobby, but before he did, he asked me if there had been any problems, if I had been treated nicely. I said everything was fine, but it made me wonder afterward why he would ask, as if he's seen this sort of reaction before. There was a young guy my age before me who also up and quit after a short time (the redneck loved to talk grudgingly about him...no doubt I've joined that
Re:My short job last year (Score:4, Interesting)
You were trained badly. Or rather, you weren't trained at all. Sure you can move the curser all over the screen, but hitting TAB (or the key that looks like it) would move you to the start of the next field. There was even a reverse tab, that would move you to the start of the previous field (it was a separate key, not SHIFT-TAB like you have to use if you are on a PC keyboard).
About 5 years ago I was a call centre operator for a fast food delivery service, and it used an AS/400 back end. 200 operators with green screen terminals, with a call time target of 55 seconds. We found out most of the tricks, there was even a key that cleared the filed from the current position to the end.
There were some quirks to the as/400 (now called iSeries by IBM), but they aren't that different to a regular computer once you understand how they work. Trouble is, by the sounds of it there was know one who knew anything to teach you.
Re:My short job last year (Score:4, Insightful)
You're right though, they didn't train the poor guy at all. That's a real problem on the old systems. Schools teach stuff way beyond those old systems, but student's don't get a clue about how they work...they do grow on you. Also, most of the systems are in the hands of 50-somethings that were hot in their day, but are stuck on doing things the same old way...they're too busy to want to take time to learn the newer easier ways of doing things...it's not uncommon to find 10+ year old programs these guys wrote still in use every day that these guys tweak from time to time... But it's a tough world because most of these guys learned that stuff from scratch and hacked their own way of doing things to get stuff done with minimal interaction with any "collegues" in the industry...they're also not the best at training new people to help them out.
Re:Asume Yorkshire accent: (Score:4, Funny)
Re:Asume Yorkshire accent: (Score:5, Funny)
No, I... We... Damn. You win. :-(
Amusment park (Score:5, Interesting)
Re:Amusment park (Score:5, Funny)
Religious nuts setting themselves on fire? I thought this was supposed to be the worst working environments?
When I Was A Boy.... (Score:5, Funny)
And frankly, I'm older than Frank. At least he had ones and zeros. We had to pick slivers of flesh from our arms to make ones.
oh aye? (Score:5, Informative)
I did work in a pit in yorkshire - just outside Hull. The working day consisted of getting up at 5:30am, setting off at 5:50 arriving at the charcoal pits about 6:30 - think of giant power station chimmneys, half-height with the tops blocked off. We'd get changed into our disposable overalls and face-mask, enter a bunker which was lit by giant and very very hot floodlights. A big truck would be backed-up against the doors and we'd start unloading it. This meant climb up, grab a sack of charcoal, carry it back into the bunker, split it with your knife and tip it out. Go back again. Split it, tip it, go back again. Split it, tip it, go back again, etc. We did three bunkers a day, four hours a bunker. We'd take a break between each one - a fourteen hour day, not counting travel. We got 4 quid an hour.
You'd have a shower when you got back, but it'd take a hour to get properly clean, and even then you'd still cough up black stuff for the rest of the night. And my god, did your back ache!
And you try and tell someone how lucky they are to be working at a computer, and they just don't believe you!
Re:Asume Yorkshire accent: (Score:4, Funny)
Actually, the Bush plan is to allow illegal immigrants to do this...
My sad tale.. (Score:5, Funny)
Back in early/mid 80's we had to power the computers with coal-fired generators. The geeks would take turns going into the mine to dig out a few buckets of the stuff. We'd lose two or three people a month in "the pit", but dammit, the data had to flow! Pink slips would fly if a single 110/300 baud modem lost power. We were dedicated!
Now all these young punks with their Just-Plug-Into-the-AC-Outlet-and-Let-the-Power-Co
Harummmmph...
Remind me to tell you how we put the hole in doughnuts back in the day...
Re:My sad tale.. (Score:5, Funny)
Wimp.
Re:My sad tale.. (Score:5, Funny)
Try saying that to the poor geeks that were laying in hospital beds dying of black lung. Some of them never got past their first pocket protector.
Whatever (Score:5, Funny)
(Not that I'm offering to trade, mind you . .
Re:Whatever (Score:5, Funny)
Re:Whatever (Score:5, Funny)
Re:Whatever (Score:5, Funny)
Easy one (Score:5, Funny)
Thank goodness that nightmare ended and now I can suff
Women (Score:5, Funny)
Re:Women (Score:5, Funny)
Either way at least you can get a good blow job from a jet engine for a lot less whining noise.
Re:Women (Score:5, Insightful)
I think you people need a reality check. You don't have it that bad. Try unemployment for a while, and then working in a factory! If you think this will not happen to you, then be prepared because it will!
Re:Women (Score:5, Funny)
Re:Women (Score:5, Funny)
Re:Women (Score:5, Funny)
It's funnier when you hear them tell it.
"Twenty of us women once worked on a sales floor with this IT guy..."
Re:Women (Score:5, Insightful)
Two words: private shitter.
Re:Women (Score:5, Funny)
My response was "Naw, I don't have any problems. Mind you, I was a bit concerned when my period started to synchronize."
The plane took a dump on me... (Score:5, Funny)
The concept was simple enough. I opened latch one and placed the hose onto the opening. This was provided that the second hatch had not failed and excrement flew everywhere. If things worked correctly, I placed a hose onto the opening and released latch two. Everything would go down via a simple gravitational setup. Often, however, the second hatch failed and would get stuck. This required removing the hose and opening the second hatch by hand and hoping that the excrement had not already released while in transit, and therefore reside behind hatch two. The lever would often fail and there would be a race to reapply the hose before the shit hit the fan, so to speak.
I could give a better description but I don't feel like reliving this. Back to work...
Re:The plane took a dump on me... (Score:5, Funny)
You were actually a fan of this method?!?
Re:The plane took a dump on me... (Score:5, Funny)
Whoda thought that there would be real number two behind door number two.
or for the old school fans of "Lets Make a Deal"
Monty Hall: You can keep the dinette set or trade it for what's behind door number two...
Re:The plane took a dump on me... (Score:5, Interesting)
Back when I was running the network at MCB Quantico (Circa 1992-94), we had to inspect the campus fiber cable plant because the as-built wiring diagrams had been misplaced.
This entailed crawling through tight tunnels all over the campus, through puddles from leaky or venting pipes, in pitch blackness.
Did I mention that these leaky or venting pipes were full of steam? (Back when Marine bases were being built, centralized steam heating was all the rage. USMC: Doing more with less since the very beginning.)
Did I mention that the temperature in the steam tunnels frequently exceeded 130 degrees?
Did I mention that because they were installed during Quantico's primary expension, in the 1930s I think, that they were wrapped in tattered asbestos insulation?
Sorry about the crapstains on your jumpsuit, but I dread the day the a doctor looks at my chest x-rays, and says to me, "Hey, what the fuck have you been breathing?"
Re:The plane took a dump on me... (Score:5, Interesting)
Except I was on the cleanup crew for this project. And we weren't union (they paid extra because we weren't -- a LOT extra). This meant mandatory 13 hour days, six times a week, followed by a half hour trip to a cutrate hotel that was also a brothel. We were working alongside a road, two hundred miles from home, with cars going by at 70-80 mph, and were not allowed to use U-turns (meaning going BACK a mile meant a 45 minute round trip).
The machines we were using were run by a guy who spiked his iced tea with VODKA. We discovered this one day when they had used our water jug to clean a dirty rock drill bit, and stole a drink from his jug when it proved to be the hottest day of the summer. This was the guy who'd hollar at us to "get in thar' and grease that bit" while it was still spinning. This was the guy who'd spill diesel or boring solution, and yell at us to bury it before the environmental inspectors showed up. The boring solution was a sticky mass of silicate silt with a warning not to breath it. We breathed it every day.
None of us were allowed to turn the key of these machines because we weren't trained on them. We had to travel ducked down in the bed of a dumptruck full of roadcones.
Speaking of which, "laying down the pattern" was fun. Walking into a road during rush hour bumper to bumper traffic with only the authority of an orange flag between a speeding SUV and your flannel shirt takes BALLS. Especially when they're on cell phones. Oh, and some truckers like to play "baseball." That's where they hit your barrels and see how far they can make them fly into your site.
Actual work was mostly mindless and consisted of using a shovel without stopping. Even if this meant digging a hole and filling it in again. Boss didn't want people calling to say that his crew wasn't working -- that was the inspectors' job.
There were fun parts, though. Like the one afternoon where we all relaxed with our lunch and watched a car burn at the rest area. Or the way the superviser would call us "niggers," despite the fact that we were all white kids. Or guarding the machines at night from the local union, who would monkeywrench the project until we hired their boys. And nothing in the world is more satisfying than coming home to your girl on Friday, covered in dirt with tanned muscles bulging out everywhere. Doesn't matter if you got them holding 200 pound pipes over your head for a half hour while the welder did his thing.
Oh, and being able to say "I built this internet with my blood and sweat." That's awesome.
my employer (Score:5, Funny)
At my company they make me sit in a small gray box with a computer. The walls are only about 6 feet high!
And it doesn't end there. My small gray box is just one in a sea of boxes, it's like some cruel farming experiment. Every so often, yet another manager comes by and asks about some memo or putting a stupid cover page on some report. And they expect me to just sit here all day and type stuff into this PC.
Think outside the box? How?
Re:my employer (Score:5, Funny)
Under a datacenter floor (Score:5, Interesting)
Rus
Re:Under a datacenter floor (Score:5, Funny)
Re:Under a datacenter floor (Score:5, Funny)
They didn't tell you that the floor tiles can come off?
Re:Under a datacenter floor (Score:5, Funny)
Turn that around and it would be uber-elite if you were hacking into the datacenter, and you had gained physical access through the false floor.
"VPS Colo: Hosting your web server from our secure location, beneath the false floor at Global Crossing. Rock bottom prices!"
Where the fsck is Rus NOW?! (Score:5, Funny)
"Alright where the fsck is Rus NOW?
The router is choking on PORN and the IP is Rus's laptop.
Why are you all smirking?! Where the HELL is he?"
"um... you are standing on him, sir. He's crawled under the floor again."
Comment removed (Score:5, Funny)
Tech support. (Score:4, Funny)
Beat that. I was every customer's verbal-abuse toy.
Re:Tech support. (Score:5, Funny)
How about a klaxon for a phone ringer (Score:5, Funny)
This company was extremely strange in other ways. The guy who founded it made tents for the Israeli army. He comes into my office one day and sees me debugging code. Mind you, this was a Mac shop, and the debugger on the Mac (Macsbug) does have an unusual appearance. He takes one look at it, and tells me I have a bug. Well, no shit, that's why I'm using the debugger! He says no, that the debugger is a bug, and that he can tell because of the way it makes my screen appear, and to please remove it immediately.
And how did he get his funding? A really big investment firm whose name shall remain, um, nameless. Turns out that one day they decide they're curious about what this guy is doing, so they send one of their drones over to take a look around. We sit him down in front of the lead programmer's computer, and show him the software that was being worked on. Mind you, this was a fairly involved piece of software, and though I didn't like the framework being used (THINK Class Library) it was nevertheless rather impressive. The drone followed the presentation carefully, or so it appeared, intently staring at the screen during each step of the presentation. Finally, about half an hour later, the presentation ends, and the drone is asked if he has any questions.
So he asks one.
"What's that little box in the lower right-hand corner for?"
He was talking about the grow box. You know, the thing that makes the window grow bigger and smaller.
So we demonstrate how you can change the size of the window. This, it turns out, was the most amazing thing he had ever seen! He starts nodding appreciatively, as if he's sure their investment in this company is a good thing after all. Then he leaves.
I think this is when I started smoking pot.
Re:How about a klaxon for a phone ringer (Score:5, Interesting)
I believe that. I used to work in the helpdesk of a large company back in the late 80's. At that time, Ethernet networks were fairly new to the company (cards cost $1000+ for 10 Mbits/sec). On occasions, the odd card would either start transmitting unrelentlessly (referred inhouse as jabbering), start sending out truncated packets (runts), or just not talking at all (sulking). We actually had two Ethernet backbones; if one failed, engineers would run relentlessly up all 15+ floors of the building switching lines until the network was restored and the offending PC was identified.
The precursor to all of this was a single telephone call... Has anyone noticed that the network is dead?
Quickly followed by an avalanche of a thousand plus callers, all asking the same thing.
To keep the PHB happy, everyone had to run around frantically, to appear as if they were actually doing something. Sitting down quietly at a LAN analyzer and an Ethernet address map of the building was the last thing management wanted to see.
Re:How about a klaxon for a phone ringer (Score:4, Funny)
What's the phone number?
try this (Score:5, Interesting)
Tough shit. (Score:4, Funny)
Re:try this (Score:5, Funny)
Are you my manager?
Fiberglass Insulation (Score:4, Interesting)
Many people who started work there rarely made it past lunch time the first day.
close the window (Score:5, Funny)
hit command-w, and you'll be fine.
Worst job (Score:5, Funny)
Thats really minor (Score:5, Insightful)
How about a PCB etching line where you have clouds of nitric acid..
Try a coke processing plant ( the black coal stuff, not the drink ) or a casting plant that uses graphite as a release agent.. Both will cause black lung, among other things...
This stuff kills you
Re:Thats really minor (Score:5, Interesting)
Whenever things in the office are bad, I think about that guy, or the etch line technicians.
Shit- (Score:5, Informative)
How about inspecting a toxic waste dump, recently uncovered in a marina, left over from the Vietnam era days, drums and drums of Agent Orange.
Asbestos factory plants shut down an abandoned, with asbestos piles higher than most apartment complexes.
Lead reclaimation factories that never should have gotten permits to begin with.
Frat-boy dorm rooms (I had to wear a gas mask in one section, it was so bad)
Public housing projects where aborted fetuses are hidden under stair cases, along with use diapers from the other kids.
You got nothing on what I have seen...
Re:Shit- (Score:5, Interesting)
The firm I worked for got a call about a cockroach. Big deal right? Well it was an albino and the size of your fuckin' hand!
Now this wans't in some run down dump, this was in some very ritzy high-priced exclusive shops in an historic section of a major city.
So we're out there looking around and the newbie (new trainie) opens a manhole cover, and out comes running *thousands* of huge albino cockroaches! Running to escape from the light, anywhere and everywhere, into the ice-cream shop nearby, the photo-mart near it, all over the place (including up and over the newbie)
Seems a pipe had broken from one of the toilets, and was feeding raw sewage into a runoff designed for normal water only. Roaches had a field day there, and (pardon the pun) did the shit hit the fan when that was found out. *Serious* damage done to the tourist trade after that!
Tacoma Narrows! (Score:3, Interesting)
Apparently it was structurally OK but the drywall was completely ripped away at one of the building junctions. You could see plenty of daylight and pigeons started nesting in it. It took UCLA three years to bother to fix it.
Still better than this job, though...
True Story (Score:5, Interesting)
The server room was the HVAC room and it was about 30 degrees in there at all times. The AC was so loud I had to use a phone outside the room and I only knew it was ringing by a red light hooked up (by me) in the HVAC room. When the AC clanged on it would suck papers off my desk, and pulled my hat off more than once. When I told them they had to move me the told me to quit.
I did.
I Work for SCO (Score:3, Funny)
Server room at old factory (Score:5, Interesting)
The unit was so old that the Liebert rep had never even seen one before, much less find it in his manual. The electrician couldn't order the part to fix it himself (he knew what was wrong with it) because the whole system was due to be replaced in 18 months and they didn't want to sink money into it.
As a result I got hold of the maintenece head and asked him if I could borrow his decibal meter. He asked me what for, and followed me into the server room.
This was a plant that had hearing protection in different areas, beyond the typical hearing plugs due to OSHA and worker safety concerns (they had to undergo anual hearing tests to monitor for damage). I ended up with a several hundred dollar pair of 40db rated earmuffs - that I was to wear over normal ear plugs, the very next day.
Military Hospital (Score:3, Funny)
A poem:
In the bowels of a military hospital,
working 11 hour shifts
on death march.
Some Asshole in the next room
where-in lies the thermostat,
Decided that they should
turn the temp down
and lock the door
over the holidays
To save energy.
Not realizing,
in the bowels of the hospital,
in a room once marked O.R.
That turning a thermostat to 45,
will
in fact
make the room 45...
and not just settle
on ambient temp.
11 hour shifts, trying to
type with a coat, and hat
and gloves on.
I brought a space heater.
It helped a little.
I was very unhappy.
Crap job vs. working in hell (Score:3, Insightful)
I could start rambling about people in third-world countries walking miles to get clean water for their families, or some 8-year-old kid in a sweatshop, or whatever.... but you get the picture.
How about any of these? (Score:5, Insightful)
I was going to make a crack about an OfficeSpace like big mutual insurance company where I was consulting, but then I got to thinking a bit more. I think that we all probably have pretty good working environments, all things considered. Think about these environments (among others):
Re:How about any of these? (Score:4, Interesting)
Think of it this way. You could either be one of the things you mentioned or:
You get the idea. Anyway, Homo Homini Lupus ("Man is a wolf to man."), even in America.
co-workers that try to drive you crazy (Score:5, Interesting)
I worked at a mental health agency that a few years prior diagnosed me with schizophrenia - hearing voices, seeing visions, etc. Anyway, I quit my meds and my brain began working overtime so naturally I make a great programmer. While working at the agency I find out that they're embezzling money and after a while they realize they can't trust me. So what did they do? They started simulating the symptoms of schizophrenia. Totally serious - they'd go by my cubicle and blurt out words such as "nigger" or blame things I had nothing to do with on me.
Re:co-workers that try to drive you crazy (Score:5, Funny)
I mean, if you were schizophren, wouldn't you be writing exaclty this ?
J.
sounds like an OSHA violation (Score:5, Informative)
-A
Software engineer at SCO (Score:5, Insightful)
Think about what it would be like to be a bit slinger at SCO in Utah:
First of all, SCO is looking to hire people in India - in other words, you know your job is going to be outsourced soon.
Second of all, you likely are a Unix or Linux programmer - and your company name is reviled in the industry you are in.
Third of all, if you ARE looking to move, nobody wants to hire you for fear of SCO suing them for some imagined infringment.
Fourth of all, the only company that MIGHT hire you as a bit slinger is Microsoft.
Fifth of all, you know points 3 and 4 won't change until AFTER the company collapes - and then you are out of work.
Granted, unlike soldiers in Iraq nobody is shooting at SCO employees or trying to blow them up (AND NOBODY SHOULD, EITHER!). But still, for tech jobs, being a programmer at SCO has to blow.
Engineering in the Vomit Comet (Score:5, Interesting)
most disgusting place ever (Score:5, Interesting)
One time the construction crew was required to go take down two silos that had been used to store bone meal (basically all parts of an animal you can't feed to humans ground up to be made into dog food) at a defunct rendering plant so they could be moved to the plant's new location. Off we went.
We arive at the sight, and drive down what looks like a gravel road, next to a nice little lake. Evrything was fine until I stepped out of the car. When I did, I realized that the road wasn't gravel; it was bone, and the lake was blood red. I was so shocked I stepped off of the road and into six inches of rotten grease that had turned rancid in the Nebraska summer sun. I won't even bother to describe the smell.
It averaged 102 the three days I was there. Everything looked like I was watching a bad TV with static on it, because flies were everywhere. You couldn't walk without tripping over a horse's leg, or a cow's tail. Part of my job was to be inside the silo (omg the smell of rotten bone meal) pulling out bolts while another member of the team used a blowtorch to burn the carcinogenic caulking off of the outside to loosen the bolts. Inisde the silo it was probably 130 degrees, filled with black choking smoke, and the stink...
Those three days, more than any other, convinced me to finish my college degree.
University tech support ... (Score:5, Funny)
Sure, the conditions weren't that bad, but you try fixing computer equipment under those conditions; it's not easy!!!
Yes, and the phrase you're looking for is: "I hate you."
Back in March in Iraq (Score:5, Interesting)
An unrefrigerated morgue in the desert. Some of my utilities still have that smell in them...
House Calls (Score:5, Interesting)
An HIV+ patient (who also has Hep B/C) in cardiac arrest face down in a pool of his own vomit. The SRO (single room occupancy) he lives is described as follows: The walls are yellow from filth. Roaches are EVERYWHERE. The floor is non existant, it's just one seamless sea of garbage. None of the lights work, so we are using our Surefire Tac lights and the ambient light from a LifePak 12 to wrok the arrest. There's no ID anywhere that can be found and there are pill bottles dating back years.
He's in asystole, but not rigor, so we can;t realy pronounce him dead. He's on the floor, so one of us has to get on the floor to try endotracheal intubation, without getting said vomit, blood, feces on our uniform.
The poor soul hasn't showered in months and the apartment reeks of bad body odor and dried vomit. It's to narrown to work him up in the hallway, so in the apartment we stay. Doing CPR in a sqaut/sittting postion isn't very comfortable after 5 minutes. Trying to find a place to rest the drug bag without it tipping over is a pain in the ass. Keeping track of all your sharps and making damn sure they are properly disposed of in the sharps box.
The heat is truned on so high, you feel like you in a pizza oven and the windows are painted shut from years of paint being applied layer after layer.
So after about 20 mins of working this patient up you have/are:
Sweating profusely with a severe case of sweaty balls.
Your uniform has come in contact with dirt, dried feces, mouse droppings, rotting food, roaches, dust balls, urine/blood soaked rug.
Your drug back asunder all around the apartment. Intubation kit is a mess with a dirty handle and used bristo-jets everywhere.
Oh, and just in case you patient does get some spontaneous rhythm back and you happen to be on the fifth floor of said SRO with no elevator, guess what prize you get???
Show 'em what he gets Johnny!
You get to carry this guy on a flat longbaord down five flight of poorly maintained staircase!! That's including stopping at every landing to give a few squeezes to the BVM (bag-valve-mask) on the way down. Sometime they weigh 100lbs secondary to severe weight loss, somtime they can way upwards of 200lbs.
But it's worth it in my book. Plus after a call like that, we hit the diner for some rare burgers with a side of chili.
--
Re:House Calls (Score:4, Informative)
Worth it and appreciated. I'm glad you do the work you do.
The Armpit of America (Score:4, Funny)
Explosives anyone? (Score:5, Interesting)
We used to make hundreds of grams of the stuff at a time, wrapped in Kevlar with ear defenders on and huge safety shields. Everything was by hand signals.
Making things worse was the fact that we were working in a bunker in a remote part of a western state that only had one life flight helicopter for the entire state at the time, and no level 1 trauma center. The local hospital was 70 miles away from any major city, and really wasn't up to fixing anything more complex than hangnails.
Miserable, wretched job- making explosives nobody else would make, under horrible working conditions. Fortunately, my boss was great. He and I made some truly dangerous compounds, and got away without so much as a scratch- a combination of skill and luck.
2guys dept store (Score:5, Interesting)
My first amazing disaster Day Job was at Two Guys. Two Guys Department Stores don't exist anymore. They were too far ahead of their time, in a sad and evil way. They were huge -- truly enormous - stores that had everything from groceries to stereos to clothing to lumber to car parts- like a WalMart on steroids. Unfortunately, their merchandise was second rate and they treated their employees poorly, ultimately dooming the store to failure.
For minimum wage, my job was to scrape bubblegum off the floor, and then wax the floor before the store opened. I would spend the rest of the day attending to emergencies as they developed. In principle, it was an OK summer job for a long haired arty musician type barely out of High School with no job skills. In practice it was a torture pit.
The place was run by this monstrous and abusive asshole we called Ming - from the old Buck Rogers movies- Ming The Merciless. To call him a creep and a jerk would be an insult to the nasty fiends and sentient nodes of evil in our world and the next. He was simply one of the vilest creatures Mother Nature has ever suffered to crawl upon the surface of this Earth. Everyone hated him, and everyone hated Two Guys, even the people who shopped there. There was an underground river of merchandise leaving the store in the pockets and cars of the customers AND the employees. It was an enterprise so universal, the manager of the electronics department was even caught shoplifting- by Ming, no less!
The thieving manager was pushing one of those giant tacky fake wood console TV/Stereo/turntable/Radio sets out the door at closing time. Ming saw him struggling to get it out the door, and asked,
"Why don't you have one of the kids move this? Where's the customer's TRUCK to haul this thing away? Hey - isn't that YOUR VAN parked there with the door open and motor running???"
Busted...
Morale was non-existent. Employees would regularly sabotage the place just for the sake of something interesting to do that would irritate Ming. One fine afternoon, some whack job let all the gerbils out of the cages in the Pets Department. The fuzzy little guys, being hungry little critters, quickly hopped off to the Grocery Department, where they merrily tucked into the lettuce and surrounding produce. A little old woman with rhinestone cat's eye glasses rattled some celery at me and shouted in a thick Yiddish accent-
"My boy- der's RATS in zee lettuce! Call zee Police! Do zomsink!"
We chased them all into the back of the building and set up little food stations for them.
One day, we, the porters of Two Guys, the lowest of the low, had had enough of Ming's white glove treatment of the crappy linoleum floors, and figured- we have to shut this place down. We took all the rubbish, display cases, boxes -- anything we could find- and packed it into the trash compactor room. A clothing rack was quickly heaved into the compactor, and in moments, the compactor's motor burned itself out. Then the trash REALLY started piling up. The next day, we anonymously called the health and fire departments for numerous violations. Yes, it was a stinking mess. Yes, they should have been fined and closed until it was fixed. Yes, we needed a day off. But Ming met the inspectors at the door with a case of booze for each of them. They never set foot on my polished linoleum. The reports of Two Guys's crimes against man and nature were never made, and the store opened as usual. Ming had us compacting trash by the afternoon.
This kind of open warfare between workers and management (actually, the sides were unevenly divided into: Everybody versus MING. Even the department managers hated him, and would regularly work to sabotage him.) was a regular feature of the workday. As a porter, I had free range to the entire store. Regular retail employees were required to stay in their departments, so, I would cruise through the store and see w
Re:2guys dept store (Score:4, Insightful)
I'm not making excuses, just adding some background for your understanding.
If it happened today, I would certainly intervene - that kind of behaviour is so unacceptable.
I sometimes wonder whatever happened to Ming and John. Ming was in his 50s then, and that was 27 years ago, so he's probably dead by now. JOhn would be in his late 50s now. I hope he's well.
RS
Not a geek job... (Score:4, Interesting)
...and not my job, but a friend of mine had one of the worst jobs I've ever heard of.
He worked for a factory that makes cement and delivers it to building sites in those big "mixer" trucks. Back then, the cement containers on the trucks were chain driven (I think they're mostly hydraulic now). Sometimes, the chains would break. If a drive chain broke while a truck was loaded, it had to be *quickly* returned to the factory to be unloaded.
Sometimes, the cement would "set" before it could be unloaded. And thus, my friend's job...
He had to crawl into the container with a jack-hammer, break up the cement, and throw it out. Just imagine the noise of a jackhammer operating within a giant metal trash can. There was also one additional hazard -- the "blades" attached to the container that mix the cement. The cement basically acts like a grinding stone and sharpens the blades until they are like razors.
Whenever we would sit around at talk about really bad previous jobs, he was not allowed to play :-).
Edwin Muir's Autobiography (Score:5, Insightful)
In effort of understatment, I'll just add that that would kinda suck.
Does the military count? (Score:5, Insightful)
Infantry have it even worse: we've at least got the beast to haul our stuff.
And that was peacetime. I was never shot at: feel for the folks on the front lines. They're doing a shitty job for almost no pay and they might come home in pieces.
Worse than that. (Score:5, Interesting)
Life in Dry Dock (Score:4, Interesting)
There's no ventilation (let alone AC), drinking water has traces of diesel fuel marine (DFM) that truly loosens you up inside (great with unsweeted tea). The doc tells you its within acceptable limits.
You have the priviledge of sleeping in a state room directly beneath the black fight deck with, maybe, an inch of insulation between your space and the deck. Temperatures are 100 degrees plus well into the night with dust comprising of lead paint, sand, pulvurized sea life and lord knows what else that got into everything. There is no water for showering. Working toilets are few and far between due to the repair work in progress.
During the day, you oversaw repair work to your spaces and equipment or did paperwork that was covered in drops of gritty sweat.
Your day started at 4:30am with Officer's call at 5:30. It ended at 6pm (unless you had duty).
Top it off, the enlisted guys had it worse.
Fortunately, when the work was done and we put out to sea, the work was worth it and life onboard wasn't so bad.
They decommissioned the ship two years later.
I guess I'll weigh in (Score:5, Interesting)
I've had 27 different jobs in my life:
groundskeeper, photographer, construction worker, car salesman, telemarketer, bill collector, restaurant manager, cook, pizza delivery boy, cashier, PC technician, project manager, software engineer, just to name a few.
One of the worst conditions I ever dealt with was when I was doing groundskeeping work. I worked on the estate of a multi-millionaire businessman who owned several thousand acres in the Pennsylvania country side. He had acres and acres of pine trees he was growing to sell at Christmas. But he decided that he didn't like that idea any more, and so he wanted them all cut down and uprooted so he could put in his own personal golf course. So during one of the hottest summers ever, I would trundle out with the 3 other guys in my jeans, boots, t-shirt, flannel shirt, hat, and gloves to cut down pine trees with chainsaws, and then heave them into the trailer to be hauled away. I got heat exhaustion 3 times that summer, and so many rashes from the needles and sap, it was awful. We asked the millionaire if we could work 4am until noon, and enjoy some cooler temperatures, but he didn't want his sleep disturbed.
Same millionaire would have us go out and wash his airplane at the local airport whenever it rained. No lie. It would be pouring and we'd be outside in the rain with brushes and soap scrubbing down the exterior of his jet. That, and when it rained, we'd go clean his turkey pens. He would throw lavish Thanksgiving parties and have fresh turkeys from his coops killed. So we'd go in and sweep up turkey shit and breath in all those nasty feathers and shit. I mean, literally, shit. Hourly pay rate: $4.25
Worked in an office that used to be a janitor's closet, and it doubled as the server room. It was the width of your standard cubicle. Day-time temperatures of over 100 degrees. The company required suit and tie as well.
The company I work for now is great, but the facilities suck. Mold growing up the walls and in the ceiling tiles, the roof leaks horrendously and we've had lights short out above us because of leaking water. There are crickets and mice all the time. The fire alarm just goes off at random, so you never know if you're supposed to get up and leave or not. For the entire month of December we had no heat at all, and they had to send us home some days. The other guys in my office bought a space heater to help us out, and it blew out a circuit. Now it's over 80 in here, and the heat's rising. You always think you're smelling something burning, but you can't be sure. There's only 3 toilets for over fifty men (on average), except the one's always busted, so we really only have two. They keep saying that they're going to fix the toilet but they never do. We don't have any windows, and no way to get fresh air. We'd like to turn off the lights overhead and use desk lamps, but oh, no switches to control the lights. This office used to be a chemical lab and there are still portions of the office that haven't been converted to "Class A" office space and still have drums of whatever sitting around. Love the company, but the location is killing us.
see "worst jobs in science" (Score:5, Informative)
Popular Science Mag: The Worst Jobs In Science [popsci.com]
(slashdot reference [slashdot.org])
Re:Are you being shot at? (Score:5, Insightful)
Re:Are you being shot at? (Score:5, Informative)
Where I work, we had a stray bullet come through a window and pass through where someone would've been sitting, had she/he not gone to lunch early that day.
Two people were stabbed to death right across the street. Two 70-year-old women, in a flower shop, during a robbery.
Our buildings are filled with asbestos. We can't drink the water due to bacteria in the pipes. The HVAC is constantly messed up: my boss' office is about 58 degrees F (14C) right now, but a couple weeks ago they had to send us home because it was 90+F (32C). Occasionally, we've been stuck without water for flushing toilets and washing hands.
One time, a sewage backup came out of one of our (already unusable) water fountains.
Ceiling tiles have collapsed on people's desks or right in front of some people from the GSA (Government Service Agency - they own the buildings) here to tour the building. Leaking pipes are the norm.
One time they told us to open the windows to encourage ventilation due to microbes in the air. Then they told us not to open the windows due to lead paint being used on the windows.
Here's an article [washingtonpost.com] from 2000 summarizing the problems.
These are the conditions US Census Bureau employees have to work in. Many, many people leave because of the problems.
--RJ