Office politics. I wish to god people would just do their jobs and leave all the petty bullshit at home. But just screw with the quiet reserved guy and see if you don’t regret it!
For a long time I thought mine was academia. I did really well in school and college, with a bare minimum of effort and in spite of having absolutely no interest. I thought it was because I was good at academia. But towards the end of college, I was talking about dissertations to one of my best friends and suddenly realised: he was the real thing. He’s not only super-intelligent - he has a true natural talent for academia. His mind works the right way. I was just smart and coasting on that.
He’s now a university professor. I never went into postgrad.
I think my kid is going to be like this. She’s not quite two, but if I want my grey hat that I haven’t seen in three days, I ask her where it is and she gives me a look like I’m an idiot and tells me ‘Under the beanbag,’ and sure enough, there it is.
I was a supermarket cashier back before scanners. We had to manually input each price and then hit the right button for each dept. (meat, dairy, etc.). I could freakin’ fly on that touchpad while sliding the groceries down the belt wit a quickness that was, to many, simply unbelievable. I had groupies (OK, they were 70-something ladies) who would regularly seek out my line just to watch. I had men scrutinize the receipt, sure they would find error after error. I had people literally bust out laughing at how fast I was. I was a star.
But goddamn did I ever hate that job.
mmm
I’ve been told many times that I have a knack for writing, and I’ve always been an excellent speller. When I was in elementary school, I expressed an interest in becoming a writer. I changed my mind before long, but it took years before people stopped suggesting to me that I pursue a career as a professional writer. In my final semester in acting school, we had two classes in which each student would write a script for a short film, and we’d pick the best one to shoot. Both of my scripts were chosen, even though I didn’t work particularly hard on either of them. Then after graduation, my classmates kept pestering me to write stuff for them or do script doctor type stuff. I’ve never really enjoyed writing, and I have a hell of a time coming up with ideas for what to write when I have to.
I’m really good at animation (video games, specifically), and I’ve done it in the past. I loathe it, though- I’d sooner gouge my eyes out than do that again.
Academic writing. I’m decent at writing. Academic writing is simply finding the absolute most discursive and opaque way of expressing opinions—padding where needed, because of course one should include many nested clauses that have nothing to do with the main thrust of argument, particularly if the intention is to confuse and obfuscate; which is synonymous (in this author’s opinion) with academic writing in general—and in short, to support the pretension that there is something of substance when in reality the idea could be expressed in a few short words of Anglo-Saxon origin and could easily be understood by the average beer-swilling NASCAR fan, but absolutely must be voiced passively lest the* hoi polloi* suddenly come to the realization that the Ivory Tower intellectuals are, in fact, discussing alimentary eructation couched in terms of the highest pretension.
Part of the reason I didn’t go for a higher degree in the humanities was because it was starting to get boring, and the bullshit was starting to ruin reading for me. Stuff like deconstructing Winne the Pooh is significantly less amusing when you know people who don’t see the irony. Academia starts being like that hypothetical road trip in another thread here, except your choices are a militant vegan or a Marxist feminist.
Math.
Advance math student my whole high school career. Hated it. Boring.
I’m an English teacher now, with zero math background. 
Moving. I can prioritize entire rooms for people to pack into boxes, and then maximize every inch of a moving truck. It amazes me how terrible some people are at this (really, you put every book you own into the fewest number of boxes you could? You waited until moving day to put all the “little things” in boxes? That’s what takes up all the room!).
I’m good at filing and enjoy it. And I type really, really fast, but again, I enjoy it. But the other office thing I’m good at, and is what most of my job is, is answering the damn phone. Yet it is the main thing I do, booking reservations for a resort. My boss is awesome. Most of my coworkers are awesome. I still have full-time hours and benefits and all of that. It’s just that every time I’m doing something else such as sorting stuff to be filed and the phone rings I want to take a sledgehammer to it. I view a ringing phone not as something to do, but as something that is interrupting something else I’d much rather be doing.
But oddly I don’t hate my job, even given that – overall, it’s okay. The other stuff counters that damn phone. When the callers are nice it helps tremendously as well. But I never know when I hit the button what sort of caller is on the other end…
…
Armchair therapist/counselor/confesee. I don’t know why, but people seem to seek out my pearls of wisdom for their personal problems, to get advice and to unload their closetsful of skeletons. This often puts me in an awkward position of knowing everybody’s dirt but being too nice to use it for my own political gain. I have to lock everybody’s secrets away in my vault, for fear of revealing something about person A to person B that I wasn’t supposed to.
I seem to be the objective, honest neutral person that everyone turns to for dispute resolution, and an escrow to hold money during bets or community collections.
Frankly, I’m sick of it.
Mine I guess is shooting rifles at targets. This was a while ago, but when I was in my teens I was sent to some camp somewhere and they had a shooting range, and rather quickly it seemed I moved up from one category to another without really trying all that hard. I think I moved up five “levels” during the time I was there, while taking the attitude of “I don’t really have anything too much better to do,” when most people at the range, who would work really hard at it, would move up one or maybe two. (I can’t remember what each of the levels meant, though.) And after that time at time at camp, I’ve never since picked up a gun.
Right when the gulf war started in 2003 or so, though, I was right at the traditional drafting age, and I was a bit on edge because if I was drafted, I was a bit worried that the powers that be might find this talent interesting. An unnecessary worry, I guess, in retrospect.
On a deliberately irrelevant note, one of the talents that I liked showing off was when I worked concessions at a movie theater. The register was all electronic, but I enjoyed adding up each person’s total in my head both before and with tax, and then telling them what the total was even before I had finished entering their order into the computer. Some people didn’t notice this, but those who did were a bit puzzled. Which amused me.
Fighting. Hand-to-hand combat. I’m a professional bouncer/doorman for several bars/nightclubs. I’ve been in well over a hundred violent encounters in the past ten years and have only really “lost” one. That involved getting blind-sided by a pair of brass knuckles to the side of my head.
I fucking hate it! I really loathe dealing with aggressive and violent people. I get horrible post-combat shakes and self recrimination tears me up if I’ve had to hurt or worse harm someone, even if I only do it to protect myself or someone else. I am just damn good at it. Not trying to sound like an “Internet Tough-Guy” but I don’t have a problem diving into the middle of a bar fight and taking on anyone or even more than one at a time. Combined with my skill at spotting fake/altered/fraudulent IDs, high degree of honesty and generally good skills at de-escalating conflicts before they turn physical I am generally acknowledged as one of, if not the best doormen on Staten Island.
It’s my job, it pays my bills and getting into physical conflicts is an necessary part of the job. There is no way to completely avoid it…but oh my, how I hate it. Sparring, training and “fighting for fun”? Sure, I enjoy that. Always have. As long as it’s not serious and everyone shakes hands after coming out of the ring or off the mats. I have no problem with it.
I would much rather spend my time with my side job of repairing computers and giving people lessons in their use, doing minor web design or going back to electronic repair work.
Hell, when I was going to college I was planning on becoming a history teacher.
That’s pretty cool, RadicalPi. My Mom grew up working her Dad’s tiny grocery store (in the 40’s) and can do that also.
Me? Carpentry. I *hate *working with wood, saws, etc. But I’m actually fairly good at it. For anniversary, I built Mizpullin a large covered deck, complete with sunken hot-tub, lights, and even a little folding doo-hickey to slide the spa cover onto (I have no idea what to call it). I hated every minute of it.
I’ve always liked sports, but my physique is not suited to the stuff I like. I’m naturally a big strong bloke, and my favourite sport is cycling. I’m happy doing it just as a hobby, but even if I trained every day I could never be fast on a bike. Would love to be able to attack a technical climb, but realistically will always end up breathing out of me arse on them.
I did weight-lifting for a few winters and took to it very easily. Certainly didn’t hate it, in fact I liked it, but it did feel somewhat banal compared to other sports. Struggled with the bench a bit, but squats and deads were no problem. I wasn’t into the realm of serious weightlifting or anything like that, but it was clearly something I’d be suited to. Didn’t pursue it further because I wasn’t interested in committing to the technique and training you need to lift serious weight.
I am the best data entry person in the world. Seriously, I will go head to head with you in an entry-off. Please don’t tell anybody this.
I thought I had nothing, but then of course I thought of one. I am wonderful, socially. I am friendly, easy-going, chatty. I can draw the quietest person out of his shell and they’ll want to come out. I can approach all classes of people at their level.
Thing is…I just don’t want to. I have a strong misanthropic streak and don’t actually like people all that much. I’d rather just do my own thing.
I have similar talents and hermit-like tendencies. I’m the opposite of shy, I love strangers and I smile and enjoy bonding (temporarily) with all types of people, even the weird ones. Maybe especially the more unusual types. I love everybody!
However, I’m a creature of solitary habits and would rather be alone than spend time with all the new friends I’ve created along the way. Thing is, I have hobbies and habits few share, and there just aren’t many people who want to spend 8 hours in a kayak, or hike a mountain trail in 90 degree weather, or poke around in a dirty garden, or just wander about outdoors studying and appreciating creatures. I would hate to drag someone along who is uncomfortable in the weather, afraid of insects, allergic to pollen or sun…so when my phone rings, I turtle up and hide.
Computer programming is my big one. I took a programming class in college because my dad insisted I do something computer-related, and I did extremely well. The professor asked me to reconsider my major, I aced all the tests, and my projects were clean and efficient for a beginner.
I hate it with the burning fire of a a thousand suns, and it turns me into a rage-aholic.
I can unplug a toilet (with plunger alone) about as well as anyone on the planet. This skill was, unfortunately, gained with copious amounts of practice.
I take a certain amount of pride in this, but pleasure would be stretching the point.