Back in 1996 I left the RAF..To get some extra cash between my transition to civvie life I took on the worst job of my life!
Everyone has their own personal worst job, that job that gave them hell, pain, frustration but that job hopefully eventually become favourite anecdotes to tell.
Whether it was the first job story..
The terrible boss story..
The annoying colleague story..
Everyone has had a crap job..
Yet my worst job had none of the above..
It had this..
Now just a second..let me explain!
I applied to a job advert that..at the time..suggested I could earn a nice amount for easy work.
Ok I thought, and so on a harvest season kind of day I stood waiting for the pick up van at six am (ex military I was ok).
The van came with less than happy souls on board..the mild mannered easy work wanting colleagues and I were bound for that easy money.
On arrival at the warehouse I got presented with my bench..A sturdy plank with a deadly blade.
After brief training that pretty much said..dont chop your finger tips off..and mind your toilet breaks I was ready to chop carrots. Yeh!
So my challenge was the world’s biggest pile of carrots to top and tail…these recently unearthed orange beauties were gagging to be dressed and ready for consumption at a waiting Sunday dinner.
So it was my duty to supply those needy diners and make some cash for me.
I started slow..that blade really wanted my finger tips..I got the knack of topping and tailing in two swift swipes of a Bruce Lee style move..sharp carrots ready for that dinner plate,
By midday my hands were shaky but the diner table bound carrots were mounting up..
A brief lunch break brought me to a couple who’d done this for years and made their way in mortgage and life..ok I thought not just gold but carrot gold..Maybe there’s something in this..
I continued my Bruce Lee carrot swiping during the afternoon and by the end of the day earned myself bags of newly chamfered carrot.
With pride I went to collect my money..”are you coming back tomorrow” they asked?
I paused as I waited for that carrot gold of cash to be passed to me..
It was £12.50 for 9 hours of hard work.
My hands were topped out and feeble..I didn’t go back.
Makes me think of the hard work for pennies some have to do..and for that I salute you.
I could not look or smell a carrot for months..
My ideal job could be..hmm maybe..as long as plenty of wee breaks!