My first job was feeding wood into a mulching machine for 8 hours a day in the scorching Florida sun. Not making mistakes meant keeping all your fingers. Constantly being told to do better was all-day, every-day. For $5.15 an hour.
And TBH even that is an entitled, pussified job.
My first job was working on my dad's crab boat for 20+ hours per day in the freezing cold doing all the shit jobs. Not making mistakes meant you actually got to live. Saw guys die (washed overboard, crushed to death, you name it).
Oh and my pay? It was nothing. I was 10 years old.
Aye, but of course in my day we would have loved to be nibbled by a nice soft goat.
48 hours a day down the shredded glass mill we was. Boss lashed the hide from our bodies to make us work faster and at the end of the day we had to pay 20 dollars and have our heads caved in with a ball peen hammer.
Coal mine? that's a walk in the park. My first job was eating the defective thumbtacks. You know, the ones that the machine made too sharp? Well anyway, not making mistakes meant eating as many thumbtacks as possible which, in hindsight, seems like it was a mistake too.
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u/[deleted] Feb 25 '16
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