My entire family seems to be addicted to Dirty Jobs. My kids repeat, "My name is Mike Rowe and this is my job" every time the show is on the air. I have to admit, Mike does stuff I would never dream of doing. *shiver*
It got me thinking. What was the worst job I ever had? It took me all of two seconds to come up with that answer. Dietary Aide in a nursing home.
During high school, I worked in the kitchen of a nursing home. The kitchen was located in the dark and dismal basement. It wasn't so bad during the day, but night was another matter entirely.
My job was basically preparing trays and washing dishes of the patients which often consisted of purée liver, spaghetti--well, pretty much anything they could purée. It was money in my pocket. I was 16 years old and it was a job. That didn't bother me.
What did bother me was working the late shift and working it with a co-worker.
Point #1
Every night on the late shift I had to replenish the supplies for the morning staff. No big deal; however, the stock room was located at the other end of the basement. In order to get to the stock room, you had to walk down a long, darkened corridor that consisted of one ceiling light when you reached dead center. No pun intended.
You know how you watch a horror movie and the hospital corridor is long and dark and there is a single light that flickers? Yep, that pretty much describes it.
I did the most reasonable thing that came to mind. Every night, I hauled ass down the corridor and said a silent prayer that nothing came out of the woodwork.
The stock room was enclosed in a cage. I needed keys to open it. Oh, God. Never forget the keys! The lights in the stock room were as great as the lights in the corridor. It boasted several shelves stocked with canned goods and two or three industrial-sized refrigerators.
Point #2
My co-worker was a 16 year old boy. How many 16 year old boys do you know? Can we all say immature?
He thought it would be hysterical to scare me to death nightly. Let me see...I opened the industrial-sized refrigerator, after I hauled ass down the long, darkened corridor, only to find that he stood inside it.
He had crawled inside an industrial-sized garbage can when I attempted to empty the trash.
He crawled in the front seat of my truck when I went to leave in a darkened parking lot.
Point #3
Patients die. Do you want to guess where they go when they die? Heaven, you say? C'mon. Take a better guess. There--you got it! The basement.
The deceased patient cannot be on the main floor. They are taken to the basement until the funeral home comes to take them away. Don't you worry though. They are laid out on a gurney and covered with a blanket--in the long, darkened corridor with the single ceiling light that flickers!
I'm going to stop there. I think you get the picture.
What was the worst job you ever had?

