lifestyle

A guide to terrible jobs. Because I have had a lot of them.

Dispenser of baked goods, extra, video shop attendant, check out chick, waitress, nanny… I HAVE DONE THEM ALL.

Remember a few months back when Social Services Minister Scott Morrison told those good-for-nothing young job seekers they shouldn’t be treating welfare like an ‘Ikea catalogue’? I still get warm and fuzzy just thinking about it.

In spite of Morrison’s v inspiring words and the Coalition’s endless threats to Youth Allowance (blocked in the senate FOR NOW), youth unemployment is still rising and for the first time, there are actually more young people in part-time work than with full-time jobs.

I was lucky enough to get a full-time job in my field, but it took me six months or so after graduating and I did about a million shit jobs along the way.

Living the #yopro dream, pretty much.

At 25, I’ve had more than 17 jobs so far (okay, not a million), have completed six unpaid internships, have middle-class parents, two tertiary qualifications and still had months when I couldn’t pay my rent. Thankfully, Centrelink helped me fill the gaps.

If Morrison had his way under-25s would be staring down the barrel of a four week wait for the dole. The current climate made me reflect rather fondly on all the crappy jobs I’ve had, which I’ve realised I was very lucky to get.

Thank you work history, it was truly character building.

Hence, I present A List Of My Shit Jobs.

Job 1: Check-out chick.

Armed with a satin neckerchief and shiny name badge, I entered the world of employment. I had secured a part-time job at my Bourgie local supermarket.

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The deli section was incomparable, but I had to pay for my uniform and, frugal little imp that I was, refused to buy a jumper.

After a winter of near-permanent sniffles I was fired for forgetting to give notice for school camp. ONWARDS AND UPWARDS.

Job 2: Ice-cream scooper.

I may have only been paid a cool $10 an hour, but ice-cream shop attendant was (and still is) my dream job. You see it’s the perfect napping study environment for a high school student. There is unlimited ice-cream and coffee, no interruptions in Winter and endless bags of tiny broken up Oreo pieces to snack on. I used to fill my hood with tea-towels and nap behind the counter.

Five stars.

Job 3: Bakery.

After graduating high school I secured a coveted position at the local chain bakery. It was going under, so you can imagine all the left-over baked goods to be taken home and fed to stoned hungry adolescents.

Job 4: Selling merchandise.

The bakery went under. Sigh. But it was summertime! And I took on a job selling merchandise during the theatre production of The Rocky Horror Show.

My pay went up, but I never EVER want to do the god damn time-warp again.

I WILL TIME WARP AGAIN IN HELL.

Job 5: Video shop.

I quickly crossed this ‘dream job’ off on my casual-employment bucket list, it was nothing like Empire Records. This was the worst one of the bunch. BY FAR.

The shifts were five hours long, so I wasn’t entitled to dinner breaks which, let’s face it, bred despondency. One day my boss, found me reading a book in the deserted wasteland of scratched DVDs that was his establishment. The conversation that followed went something like this:

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Him:”What’s that?”

Me: “It’s a book.”

Him: “Do you know what happens to employees that read books?”

Me: “They expand their minds?”

Him: “They don’t stay employees for long”.

He was right and I didn’t. I was fired. But not before he reviewed the video footage of my previous shifts and discovered my penchant for sitting on the bench… which then disappeared, rather tellingly.

There was also a sign that actually said: “If you’ve got time to lean, you’ve got time to clean.”

Once I watched a man fill his whole jacket with DVDs and then just let him walk through the beeping security barrier because I refused to get stabbed for a jacket-full of $1 DVDs.

Also, we could only listen to management approved CDs, which were mixed and featured rap-jingles by my book-burning (probably) boss and then, when he was finally sued by Sony for copyright infringement, there was no music at all. Just me, the DVDs and a whole lot of reggae T-Shirts (in retrospect, it was probably a drug front).

Job 6: Swimwear sales girl.

For one blissful Summer I was a sales girl at the local swimwear warehouse. I worked full-time hours and rarely bathed. I certainly didn’t wash my powder blue polo shit. This did not go unnoticed:

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This is still stuck to my bedroom wall.

I was the only member of the “staff” who received the note.

This job was actually terrible. There were tears in the change-rooms, periods on the swimwear and hygiene liners stuck to EVERYTHING.

Sometimes I would just hide in the children’s section for days on end, reorganising the tiny one-pieces into colour and size order.

And then I got a new job…

Job 7: Spruiker of cardigans.

Once I got a taste for the fast paced world of women’s fashion, I quickly climbed my way to top of the sales ladder at a local/terrible clothing ’boutique’.

I stayed in this job for three years and quit no less than four times. I had my letter of resignation saved to the desk top. On the dark days I would dress the mannequins up as sassily as I could. For eg:

Fashion.

I eventually fell from grace after a particularly unfortunate encounter with a mystery shopper.

Job 8: Call-centre employee.

Good pay, short shifts, lots of mates, free Nescafe Blend 43.

Will to live: Zero.

THIS WAS MY EXPRESSION FOR THE DURATION OF MY EMPLOYMENT.

Job 9: Nanny.

With my hard-earned, and accumulated, call centre wages I bought a ticket to Europe where I nannied for several months. I genuinely loved this job and the kids I looked after, but MY GOD it was stressful.

It was the middle of European winter and the tiny 7-year-old  Doctor Who fan I spent my afternoons with spat in my mouth one time, which resulted in a two month bout of bronchitis.

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I also nannied through three cases of chicken pox and countless questions about my own acne-riddled skin. No, I did not also have chicken pox. Ugh.

Job 10: Bakery 2.0

This was a career highlight. Bakery 2.0 was by far the best.

My boss used to hug me often, there was much banter to be had and again, unlimited access to – this time artisan – bakery treats. I then discovered that I was fructose-intolerant and was placed on a strict gluten-free diet. RIP, croissants.

Job 11: Another Cafe.

I lost this job after I turned up hungover and dropped a fork in someone’s juice. Quite right.

Job 12: Extra.

After graduating from journalism school I signed up to be an extra on Asher Keddie’s foray into the political dramasphere Party Tricks.

I played the role of ‘journalist’ at a fake press conference and was forced to wear this:

WHAT JOURNALISTS WEAR.

AND THE REST.

Blah blah blah, I eventually got a job as an actual journalist, but not without also working as a bartender, an editor of mystery shopper reports for Porche dealerships (THE TABLES FINALLY TURNED), and a policy assistant.

I’m sure there were other jobs (I definitely recall doing at least two shifts at Hudson’s coffee on King St), I’ve just blocked them out.

The irony of my first byline as an unpaid intern was not lost on me. I assure you.

Something something your career is like a jungle gym(?) I AM WORKING ON IT.

What’s the worst job you’ve ever had?