Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Hump Day Dump: Remember When You Didn’t Have to Care?

(Dream Job?)

Douche Lord of the Week: The inaugural Douche Lord is here. He attacked the banner and now the banner strikes back. And, Yes America, that is what a pedophile looks like. Congrats to South Park Saddam on making the banner.

I was going to talk some Big Ten Hoops, specifically how Michigan was well on their way to winning the National Title, but an entire week without sports sounds--peaceful. So here I sit, wondering what the fuck we are going to talk about today…and now I’ve got it.

On Super Bowl Sunday Mrs. Ace and I made our way over to Romeo’s to get ourselves a pie for lunch. The pizza wasn’t nearly as great as I was hoping it would be, but that’s not the point. Over on Broad St. there was some poor schmuck standing outside in a dog costume, holding a sign advertising for some apartment complex next door. It was cold, it was windy, and it was intermittently raining. Mrs. Ace looks over to me and says, “That would be the worst job ever.” I respond, “I know, right. OMG.” But that got me thinking.

I recently watched one of the best documentaries ever, “The Parking Lot Movie.” Look it up, watch it. Anyways, it’s basically about a group of parking attendants by UVA who both love and hate their job, but enjoy being a total dick to ass holes who drive SUV’s. I went into that movie thinking that job would suck balls, but came out wanting to drop out of grad school and head down to campus to become a parking warrior. These attendants don’t have to give a fuck about their job. They probably make just over minimum wage, sit in a shack alone for hours on end, and deal with fucktards all day.

But they do give a fuck. They give an enormous fuck. They chase down cars that don’t pay and kick off their side mirrors. They tell crazy ladies they are crazy and then remind them to take their medication. Being a dick is part of their job description.

I remember having jobs like that and I want them back. Now. Growing up working in the greatest Ace hardware store ever, I could be a dick because my name was on the fucking building. But I never took it there. Why the fuck not?

There is one moment that sticks in my head that I wish I could do all over again. This couple comes in and needs some 2” PVC pipe cut to 4’. No problem, I pull out my handy dandy tape measure and mark the pipe at 4’. I go to grab the cutters and then it happens, “Haven’t you ever heard of measure twice, cut once?” says some fucking whore who should have gotten that pipe shoved down her throat. Now, what I did was pretty fucking G of me for being a 14 year old. I got up, and held out the tape measure to her implying re-measure it yourself, cunt. She just turned away and I went on my way cutting this pipe.

What I should have done was grab that whore by the hair, took her outside to the front of the store, and pointed up to the sign: Link

Me: Tell what that fucking says.
Woman: _____ Ace Hardware. (No government names allowed)
Me: What the fuck is my name?
Woman: I don't know.
Me: Exactly. You don't know who the fuck you're talking to. That's my name on that fucking sign. Don't tell me my business.
And then I would pistol whip her like the scene from Goodfellas.

Just think if you could go back to when you were working some menial job in high school or college. Throughout college I used to paint for a friend of mine's dad. Just some shitty job where I would work long hours in the blistering sun or dirty apartment for little pay. But on certain days I would make the most of it. On these certain days I would be hammered on tall boys and be almost completely worthless.

There was one day when I was painting a small cottage right on the Maumee river and it was 90 degrees out. I was working with my bosses nephew, but he was more worthless than I was. We started the day off, at 8:00 AM, with 4 tall boys each. We make those last til noon and decide we need to reload; go get four more each. Those only last two hours. Time to go get four more. At this point we are toast. I'm taking paint rollers and dunking them in the paint and then wizzing them around like I'm Randy fucking Johnson. Every time we get hit we go jump in the river to wash the paint off. Our boss rolls through at 5 PM and sees we haven't done shit, we are covered in expensive house paint, and can barely stand...but it's Saturday so he doesn't really care, and offers us another beer.

I want that fucking life back. You want that fucking life back. I want to be one of those guys in a stupid ass costume holding a stupid ass sign and waving for people to come on in. Because I could do whatever I wanted. Give me a megaphone and I guarantee I could start a riot. It would be like Fight Club when the guys are given the homework of starting a fight with a stranger. Every person that walked by would get verbally accosted and I would be fired within a week, but who gives a shit?

The real world sucks.

I know the Money Shot Maniacs have some grand stories from shitty jobs past. Share them.

25 comments:

Grumpy said...

In between my sophomore and junior years in college I got a job in a valve factory. They put the "college boys" in the foundry where it was 100 degrees even in the winter. The valve molds were made from sand, which had to be moved on a conveyor belt from the first floor to the casting room on the second floor. For their first two days all the college kids were assigned to shovel sand onto this belt for 8 hours. Hot, back breaking work designed to weed out the pussies.

I wanted to impress the boss and so I'm shoveling sand like a mad man. The belt bounced and vibrated like crazy, so there was always sand falling on me. Sand in my hair, down my shirt, in my eyes and nostrils, everywhere. About half way through the first day this little wiry hilljack with no teeth comes up to me and says very quietly "They ain't never gonna run out of sand." The message was clear; it didn't matter if I shoveled fast or slow, the sand would keep coming. That's how I learned the union mentality and learned to be a slacker.

Drew said...

I have a feeling that any story I tell on this topic is going to suck compared to most as I've never even had a job that required physical labor unless you count being a soccer ref.

You did remind me that back in high school I worked as a host or expo (guy that sets up the food in the kitchen) at a local restaurant. But, this was a pretty popular restaurant....and next to it was a not so popular restaurant. So, when the lot at our restaurant filled up then we would have people parking next door to get a spot and walk over. Well, the not so popular restaurant did not like this and complained about it. So, our managers came up with the job of LOT. At first this sounded terrible, but then my buddy and I worked it a few times adn realized there was no better job. They actually paid us extra to do this job....something like $ 8.50 an hour...and we would just sit in our car, listen to music and smoke a ton of weed. It was glorious and we would even have friends stop over and smoke weed with us...on top of that when we were done we got to come in and order a huge thing of nachos for free and have a tremendous munchies meal. So much fun.

Soccer reffing was pretty sweet too, just because it gave a 15 yr old kid the ability to tell hot headed adults to basically shut the fuck up.

GMoney said...

My life would be completely different and way more awesome if it allowed pistol whipping.

I, yes I, helped commenter hoffman's dad on their farm for a week once when hoffman was out of town somewhere. Horrible. They assumed that I could drive a tractor. I can not. Farming is waaaaay too tough of work for this pussy.

Mr. Ace said...

Grump, you know damn well you were 6 yrs old when you started working. And it was as a chimney sweep.

Drew, no wonder you're an ass hole. You never had to work for anything until you were at least 22. I hate your life.

Dut and I worked in a molded plastics company over the summer after our freshman year in college. That place was fucking hell and all the regulars there thought they were saving the fucking world one Ford Focus part at a time. I would get bitches at daily because I never checked the "quality of the part," I would just grab it and send it on thru...and it was fucking graveyard shift! Never again.

Anonymous said...

I worked as a Mr. Softie driver for a day the summer after freshman year in college. You went in at 10, loaded up the truck with ice cream mix and popsicles, drove off for 11 hours and got back at 10pm. Imagine driving an ice cream truck thru the hood with people banging on the truck demanding their ice cream. Also, you couldnt leave the truck, so you had to piss or shit in the back of the truck in empty containers. You took home 20% of what you made each day, but i could only hack it once.

Mr. Ace said...

Anon, how much ice cream did you eat throughout the day? I easily would have eaten my 20%.

Anonymous said...

In college I waited tables at Red Lobster - so one night we were pretty busy and I had a ton of tables. This black dude was demanding everything, to the point where he wanted his fucking ceaser salad heated up in the microwave- im dead serious. I ran my ass off for this table, knowing damn well i was going to get shit on come tip time. So they pay with credit card, and on the slip wrote "youre an asshole" and left me a penny. I proceed to follow them outside, and catch them right before they get to their car. I say "excuse me?", and the dude says, you were very rude. All I reply with is "go fuck yourself" and turn around and walk back inside.

I was positive I was going to be fired. He came back in and complained, and I still didnt get fired. Luckily the cool manager was working and totally understood.

Seal

Drew said...

Seal.....good for you. That makes me happy that you did that and that your manager thought that guy did need to go fuck himself.

Anonymous said...

I think I could write a book on shitty jobs that I've had. I've worked in plastic factories, was a maintenance man at a dump hotel, did construction (where I worked 28 straight hours once), and worked at a car wash (which was awesome).

My best memory at the carwash (I think) was loading cars with occasional commenter Andy. We were still slightly drunk from one his parties the night before. Every car that pulled up, he yelled at the top of his lungs "foooorrrwwwwaaaarrrrdddd, cccoooocccckkkssssuuuccckkkkeeeerrrr!". All of those cars had to come out dirty, because I was laughing so hard I couldn't see.

As a maintenance man at a rundown hotel, when I wasn't fixing shit or flirting with the nasty white trash housekeepers, I would lock myself in a vacant room and play PS2. That's what they get for paying me $6.00 an hour.

Ace- I don't want to hear your bitching about the Ford Focus plant! I think you quit after a week. Also, in order to not get bitched at by the lifers, all you had to do was throw the parts in the grinder instead of inspecting them. When they ask why you only made half of what a normal person would, just say the parts came out with defects!

Dut

GMoney said...

A penny tip? That might be a record for a black guy! Zing!

I never would have guessed that being an ice cream man sucked so much.

When drew and I worked at a restaurant together, they made us carry coffee pots on trays because it was classier or some shit. So I stumble into work still drunk at 6 am one morning for the breakfast shift and spill the entire scalding hot pot on my arm at a table. Those people were scarred for life watching that happen. I was fine though because I am a king among men. And drew was horrible at his job which I still don't know what that was.

Jeff said...

I worked as the door man at Bar Louie for a summer when I was home from college. The best part was that there is technically a dress code we were supposed to enforce and naturally I just enforced on black guys who had their hats on backwards, shirts untucked, and too baggy pants. When they would bitch and tell me I was racist, I would pull out the sheet with the dress code written on it and tell them to go fuck themselves. I always had a cop at the door with me so I could pretty much get away with anything. It was awesome.

Mr. Ace said...

Dut, I think I made it two months while calling off every 3 days. Putting shit in the grinder required too much effort for 4AM.

When I was in high school I used to close the hardware store with one of my friends. We used to sell fox piss to put in gardens to keep the rabbits out. One night my friend decided he would spray my shirt with X-14 and bleach it all to shit. So I cracked open a bottle of fox urine and slightly diluted it and put it in a spray bottle. Right as he was coming out of the bathroom he was about to say my name, and I blasted him in the face and mouth with it. It was the funniest thing in the world. Smelling like fox urine was like getting sprayed by a skunk...in the mouth.

I have only left a shitty tip once. Mrs. Ace and I went to BWW's and we had a male waiter. That fucking guy hit on Mrs. Ace the entire time and never made eye contact with me. Ever. To the point where Mrs. Ace felt uncomfortable. So instead of leaving him a tip I left him a note that said, "Next time don't hit on a guys fiancee, doucher." I made sure to time it right so I could leave without having to confront him over his tip. Fuck that guy.

Anonymous said...

Dut,

Carwash by far was my favorite job of all time. Even though I get paid 10x the amount of money I made there...I think I'd still prefer doing that over this shithole. Best memory by far...either lighting the Maumee River Bank on fire and having the fire department come or riding my sweetass Jawa moped directly through the entire wash about 5 times.


-Andy

Anonymous said...

Andy- 10x what you made at the wash? You get paid 60$ and hour to sit and browse the internet/chat all day?

Dut

Anonymous said...

I roofed one summer.

Feel through the attic into some old ladies living room while she was watching tv. Dust insulation so shit went alllll over the house. Convinced I almost killed her as she yelled 'oooooohhhhh myyyy godddddd' and ran out of the house.

This was time perfect with the old man cowboy skeet shooting champ she has for a husband to get home and walk in the house while I'm still sitting on the floor covered in insulation. His reaction was to scream 'WHAT THE
FUCK'.

This was at noon, had to continue roofing tell 9pm. Made 6.50 an hour - total of about $1,000 Earned that summer. Damage to the house? About 1000. Nothing like roofing half the summer for free. Misreble.

J Saul

Drew said...

G$....I'm not sure what my job at the restaurant was either. It was almost like..."Drew...your job is to show up on two hours of sleep still shitfaced...make jokes and eat a free breakfast...perhaps put some food out on display and maybe make the area look clean if you find the time...then eat a free lunch before you leave".

Anonymous said...

Ace,
Each carton of ice cream mix was worth $50 in sales. When you left for the day, your entire truck was inventoried, so they knew how much $$ vs. inventory you should come back with. You could get 2-3 soft serve cones worth of free ice cream daily.

The Iceman said...

The summer before my Freshman year of college I worked construction. Keep in mind that I struggle to change lightbulbs in my house and that I know jack shit about construction. The job started at 7am in Toledo and went until 6 or 7pm most days. I was living in Napoleon at the time so that meant waking up at 5:45am and getting home around 8pm most nights. Did I mention that I'm the last person you want around tools?

I got paid $7 an hour to be the ass end of every joke, to get picked on like I was in fucking 4th grade and sweat my fucking choad off all summer all while trying not to crush every bone in my hand with a hammer or plant 47 nails into my femur with a nail gun. One guy...Keith...was the worst. Keith doused me with liquid nails one day...and by doused I mean covered me head to toe. For those of you who don't know what liquid nails is...it's pretty self explanatory and more impossible to get off your body than the shame of banging a fat girl with a moustache.

But I got my revenge on Keith. On the hottest day of the summer (around 105), I shit in an empty Gatorade bottle after lunch and glued it, uncapped, to the bottom of the driver's seat of his truck. Keith didn't bother me again after that day.

Tony B. said...

I never did anything as awful as manual labor- this story is more positive. I worked at Tower Records in college. There was this clerk that worked there that we called "Cowboy Sean" as he dressed like a cowboy every day. He had a buddy that came who had a Confederate flag tattooed on his arm. Point is, he was a hick.

One day, the huge black dude Andre that worked with us Razor's Edged the cowboy onto a rack of videos. It was one of the coolest things I've ever seen. Our manager wasn't there, so no one got in trouble as the cowboy knew better than to tattle.

Working there was pretty much like Empire Records but with zero hot girls and a douchy manager.

Anonymous said...

Sophomore year of college I worked at a Waffle House. Wore a paper hat. Wore velcro shoes. Work shirt was so tight it was a second layer of skin. People ran out without paying all the time. My best "regular" customers were a married couple...actually cousins...really, they were married cousins and admitted it. Tips were poor, and so paid rent in $1 bills, like I was a stripper.


--the Wig Master

Mr. Ace said...

Any comment that contains a Razor's Edge reference is the greatest comment of the day. I would love to see a real razors edge.

Drew said...

Iceman....what the fuck were you doing working construction for $ 7 an hour? That sounds like an incredibly dumb thing to do. You could do just about any job and make more than $ 7 hour....why construction? I'd rather bag groceries for that money. Please tell me you meant $ 17.

I don't envy any of you construction, factory or car wash workers.

GMoney said...

Knowing that one of my longest-running readers worked at waffle house makes me so sad.

The Iceman said...

You read that right Drew. That was back in 1998 and apparently when you get hired on as a construction worker with zero experience you get started at the laughable rate of $7. Plus the foreman was the only dude that would hire me for the summer. He figured he could enslave me and use me to do his bitch work for 3 months at little to no cost to him.

Drew said...

Well, it looks like the foreman figured correctly.