First Day at Work Nightmares

[steve50]

That is shocking, horrific even . No pun intended.

 

[swee'pea99]

Worst job - worked in a slaughterhouse in Guildford when I was a teenager. I was given a sledgehammer and told to crack the cow's skulls with it. When I asked about bolt guns they laughed and said they didn't have anything so modern. All morning I killed cows. If you didn't swing the sledgehammer hard enough, the cow went nuts and tried to break the crush. Hit the thing too hard and the sledgehammer smashed the skull and you got covered in brains. By lunchtime I was knackered, but when I got to the canteen everybody stood up and applauded. Turned out they were having a laugh with the new guy and I could have been using a bolt gun. I walked out and never went back. Didn't even ask for wages.

Jesus H. I knew Guildford was bad, but...

 

[ColinJ]

Worst job - worked in a slaughterhouse in Guildford when I was a teenager. I was given a sledgehammer and told to crack the cow's skulls with it. When I asked about bolt guns they laughed and said they didn't have anything so modern. All morning I killed cows. If you didn't swing the sledgehammer hard enough, the cow went nuts and tried to break the crush. Hit the thing too hard and the sledgehammer smashed the skull and you got covered in brains. By lunchtime I was knackered, but when I got to the canteen everybody stood up and applauded. Turned out they were having a laugh with the new guy and I could have been using a bolt gun. I walked out and never went back. Didn't even ask for wages.

That is shocking, horrific even . No pun intended.

I knew somebody who worked at an abbatoir in the Midlands in the 1970s. He told me similar horrific tales of what went on there. It was one of the things that led to me becoming a vegetarian.

 

[Dayvo]

August 1980. I was 20 years old and bumming round France and Germany with a mate.

We'd ended up in Marmande (approx. 60 miles south of Bordeaux) and were looking for work (too early for grape picking). My mate got a job at a factory straight away and was offered accommodation by a husband and wife whom he worked with. I was still 'staying' (kipping on a bench in the waiting room) at the railway station, spending my time strolling round town without a care (or any francs) in the world.

At the agency we'd registered at, the bloke recognised me when he was out having his lunch and told me there was a job starting the next morning, driving around with two others collecting fruit and veg. produce from local farmers. I was to meet them at 07:00 at a bar I knew.

I got there early (a one-minute walk from my hall of residence) and asked the two men if they were my workmates to-be. After two croissants, two-three espressos and three-four brandies, we left town and headed out to the countryside. There were three-four stops every hour followed by the obligatory drink (wine, beer, pastis brandy). The driver just drove, whilst I and the other fella lifted, carried and loaded. By lunchtime I was absolutely ratted: the other two were also worse for wear, but seemingly well-accustomed to it.

And that set the pattern for the next three weeks. Happy times.

It is also a great area for cycling and I'd love to go back for a long holiday there one day.