What's the worst job you ever had?

"Plucking lobsters out of Jayne Mansfield's arsehole" I hear you all roar in unison.

I was just trying to think of something worse than being the BBC's Royal Correspondent. All that toadying and obsequiousness along the complete lack of any rational appraisal of actual important facts and the complete disregard for any journalistic credibility must really batter anybody's (Nick "Man Of Steel" Witchell apart, obviously who was clearly just as much born to the role as Her Maj was to hers) self-respect.

All joking aside we tear into the North Korean TV and puppets like Saddam's Chemical Ali but given the chance we willingly pile in at every opportunity exactly as they would in similar circumstances.

But I digress...

My worst ever job was known as "Lids" at Mother's Pride bakery.

If you buy a square/sliced loaf it is that shape because the dough is moulded to shape as it rises in a cast iron tin with a heavy cast iron lid, it needs to be heavy or else the rising dough would push it off and the bread would not be square, which is then baked in a huge oven with loads of others once proved. The very, very hot, lidded tins then came out of the oven along a conveyor belt and I had to take the lids off so the bread could be tipped out before it was allowed to cool, sliced and wrapped (which was more or less all automated). If you let a lid through it fouled everything up and a) you got grief and b) you were kept on "Lids" longer.

It was hideous. The heat was almost too much to bear so it was very sweaty and uncomfortable before you even began. The lids were very heavy making their removal a feat of endurance because it didn't that much of a repetitive movement before the lactic acid build up in the forearms set in causing cramping (if you stretch your arms out in front of you and snap your wrists back like you were accealarating a motorbike with both hands you have an idea as to the action involved for lid removal); worst of all was the heat from the lids which penetrated the "heatproof" gloves and if you let a lid slip when removing it, which became more and more likely the longer you were there, it fell back onto your forearms causing burns because it was impossible to keep your sleeves down as you lifted the lids off.

Absolutely bloody horrible - and probably not permissible under modern H&S@W legislation.

Crappest job I ever had.

But still preferable to being BBC Royal Correspondent. Alles gute zum Geburtstag der Königin.

Nicholas Witchell on the Queen's corgis: "They know nothing of her status."

Give him a gong.

Selling showers door to door in Efford.

Being a baby sitter sorry I mean a mod on a football forum.

Being a sewing machinist at Clarks putting fancy stitching on shoe uppers, I'd been made redundant from Dents and took the first job on offer, one of the first male sewing machinist at the time and bleddy hated it.

Pie mix nightshift at Hilliers in Plympton. I was there in my summer holiday from uni, and shovelling that swill made me swear I'd never eat another mass made pie again in my life (an oath I probably broke shortly after going back to university.)

Wiring deep litter houses, Horrible chicken shit and fleas.

Sir Francis Drake wrote:

"Plucking lobsters out of Jayne Mansfield's arsehole" I hear you all roar in unison.

My worst ever job was known as "Lids" at Mother's Pride bakery.

If you buy a square/sliced loaf it is that shape because the dough is moulded to shape as it rises in a cast iron tin with a heavy cast iron lid, it needs to be heavy or else the rising dough would push it off and the bread would not be square, which is then baked in a huge oven with loads of others once proved. The very, very hot, lidded tins then came out of the oven along a conveyor belt and I had to take the lids off so the bread could be tipped out before it was allowed to cool, sliced and wrapped (which was more or less all automated). If you let a lid through it fouled everything up and a) you got grief and b) you were kept on "Lids" longer.

It was hideous. The heat was almost too much to bear so it was very sweaty and uncomfortable before you even began. The lids were very heavy making their removal a feat of endurance because it didn't that much of a repetitive movement before the lactic acid build up in the forearms set in causing cramping (if you stretch your arms out in front of you and snap your wrists back like you were accealarating a motorbike with both hands you have an idea as to the action involved for lid removal); worst of all was the heat from the lids which penetrated the "heatproof" gloves and if you let a lid slip when removing it, which became more and more likely the longer you were there, it fell back onto your forearms causing burns because it was impossible to keep your sleeves down as you lifted the lids off.

Absolutely bloody horrible - and probably not permissible under modern H&S@W legislation.

Crappest job I ever had.

But still preferable to being BBC Royal Correspondent. Alles gute zum Geburtstag der Königin.

Spooky - very spooky

My worst ever job was known as "Ovens" at Mother's Pride bakery. (The bakery that used to be behind the Library?) The tins in my time didn't have lids though .. 1972 ish! Holiday job from skool.

If you buy a square/sliced loaf it is that shape because the dough is moulded to shape as it rises in a cast iron tin which is then baked in a huge long oven with loads of others. When the tins reached us (me + 2?) they were very hot and the knack was to grab 2 tins of 3? loaves (one each hand) turn them upside down and slam them down onto a belt so the bread fell out which took them away for slicing etc. If they stuck you had about 10 seconds to unstick before the next load arrived.

It was hideous. The heat was almost too much to bear so it was very sweaty and uncomfortable before you even began. The tins were were very heavy and hot. Arms got quite burnt. 10pm to 6am except Friday which was 6pm to 6am. First bus home then to Woodford except one morning I dozed off and woke up going through Colebrook area. Long walk home.

lawnmowerman wrote:

Being a baby sitter sorry I mean a mod on a football forum.

Unpaid as well !!!

tigertony wrote:

Sir Francis Drake wrote:

"Plucking lobsters out of Jayne Mansfield's arsehole" I hear you all roar in unison.

My worst ever job was known as "Lids" at Mother's Pride bakery.

If you buy a square/sliced loaf it is that shape because the dough is moulded to shape as it rises in a cast iron tin with a heavy cast iron lid, it needs to be heavy or else the rising dough would push it off and the bread would not be square, which is then baked in a huge oven with loads of others once proved. The very, very hot, lidded tins then came out of the oven along a conveyor belt and I had to take the lids off so the bread could be tipped out before it was allowed to cool, sliced and wrapped (which was more or less all automated). If you let a lid through it fouled everything up and a) you got grief and b) you were kept on "Lids" longer.

It was hideous. The heat was almost too much to bear so it was very sweaty and uncomfortable before you even began. The lids were very heavy making their removal a feat of endurance because it didn't that much of a repetitive movement before the lactic acid build up in the forearms set in causing cramping (if you stretch your arms out in front of you and snap your wrists back like you were accealarating a motorbike with both hands you have an idea as to the action involved for lid removal); worst of all was the heat from the lids which penetrated the "heatproof" gloves and if you let a lid slip when removing it, which became more and more likely the longer you were there, it fell back onto your forearms causing burns because it was impossible to keep your sleeves down as you lifted the lids off.

Absolutely bloody horrible - and probably not permissible under modern H&S@W legislation.

Crappest job I ever had.

But still preferable to being BBC Royal Correspondent. Alles gute zum Geburtstag der Königin.

Spooky - very spooky  

My worst ever job was known as "Ovens" at Mother's Pride bakery. (The bakery that used to be behind the Library?) The tins in my time didn't have lids though .. 1972 ish! Holiday job from skool.

If you buy a square/sliced loaf it is that shape because the dough is moulded to shape as it rises in a cast iron tin which is then baked in a huge long oven with loads of others. When the tins reached us (me + 2?) they were very hot and the knack was to grab 2 tins of 3? loaves (one each hand) turn them upside down and slam them down onto a belt so the bread fell out which took them away for slicing etc. If they stuck you had about 10 seconds to unstick before the next load arrived.

It was hideous. The heat was almost too much to bear so it was very sweaty and uncomfortable before you even began. The tins were  were very heavy and hot. Arms got quite burnt. 10pm to 6am except Friday which was 6pm to 6am. First bus home then to Woodford except one morning I dozed off and woke up going through Colebrook area. Long walk home.

Same place. Probably the same tins. Nearly the same job except your bit had been mechanised by the time I got there. The tins were fixed to a conveyor belt and as it went around the rollers at the end the tins inverted and the bread fell out. I think someone watched the tins go past and could stop the belt to get the bread out of the tin if it didn't pop out on its own. The tins then had another dollop of dough added before being lidded and going back into the oven; if there was a loaf in there the dough when on top, would be too big to let the lid fit properly and everybody got extremely cross.

I think they only put the new, young people on lids because the blokes who worked there were likely to chin the charge hand if he asked them to do it and there was one of them about.

I was a student when I worked there and the full-timers hated students who got paid tax free and earned as much (take home) as they did, if not more, despite knowing virtually diddly about anything. Very resentful they were.

When I worked there (mid 80s) they had 12 hour shifts; 6 days on one day off; I think I did 6 weeks. With shift and overtime guaranteed every week (and no tax) the money was amazing to a 20 year old living at home with M&D.

24 hour guard duty in a explosives dump in Aden.....4hours off,2hours on guard.....the heat and humidity made your four hours rest intolerable....a crappy old mattress to rest on during your time off duty.....on one occasion it got even worse when one chap came off guard and handed over the 303 clip....and he had lost one round,...all six of us spent over twelve hours looking for this lost bullet mostly in the dark and in a rocky sandy invironment......we did eventually find it as dawn broke just before we where picked up at the end of our duty.

Sir Francis Drake wrote:

Nicholas Witchell on the Queen's corgis: "They know nothing of her status."

Give him a gong.

He probably said it after a bong

MikeWN wrote:

Pie mix nightshift at Hilliers in Plympton. I was there in my summer holiday from uni, and shovelling that swill made me swear I'd never eat another mass made pie again in my life (an oath I probably broke shortly after going back to university.)

Did many a stint in there (aka Bowyers) on university holidays. I'll see your Pie Mix and raise you Pie Bake though. The sadist perm employees would put the green students on the glazing machine on the first day which involved lifting heavy iron trays into racks as they came off the machine. Could barely move the next morning. To be fair to them, they treated you ok once you proved you weren't a shirker. Good money too and tax-free as a student. Happy days - used to run to the Louis for last orders after a 2-10 shift.

Factory burned down, didn't it? Probably for the best.

I had the joy of working at B&M bargains oop narth before it went national. I always struggled with the accents of the coach loads that'd turn up every Tuesday and Thursday. I'm well aware the risks working there were generally less than being in the employ of the services. . by a long way.

Did a sunday morning paper round as a kid, had to knock on the door and get the money before i handed over the papers, Blokes with hangovers taught me loads of new swearwords!

Luxury 7 mornings a week delivering papers with only a lick of gravel for breakfast. And I was trashed to death if I didn't go to church

hippo wrote:

Luxury 7 mornings a week delivering papers with only a lick of gravel for breakfast.   And I was trashed to death if I didn't go to church

Hardest job in the world Paper Boy, Dogs, rain, Miserable old Moaners, up at six, Still its made me the handsome young go getter, i'am today!

I was a paper boy for years, used to nick Playboy and Hustler (priced 40p back then) and flog them at school for £2.50, I think my wages for the week was £1.50 and 60p for the Sunday round, Sunday papers weighed about 3 hundred weight.

Dismantling the toilets at Glastonbury festival before the troughs had been siphoned up. Fell in one, past my knees.

That sounds shite.

Untangling spider crabs from nets when I worked for my Father after leaving school before I started my apprenticeship (often several hundred crabs a day). The amount of entanglement one crab can get into is beyond belief.
I never managed to work as fast as Father wanted & he frequently reminded me. The work was so much harder on scuffly days too.
Nowadays many fishermen just snap the legs off the really tangled crabs to speed up their removal but we always tried to remove them intact

Delivering local free rag in early 90's. £3.50 for several hours work.

I worked in the Cattedown slaughterhouse when I was sixteen for a few weeks, not very nice.