Nope, and they weren’t the sort of people you walked in on and asked. They were the aloof sorts that sat in their offices all day and anything you had to discuss went through channels. In the end, I didn’t care enough about the job anymore to ask, so I just never came back.
I’m pretty sure that was probably against some sort of employment laws or something, but I was just glad to get the hell away and didn’t want anything to do with them anymore.
One day. I didn’t really quit, though.
I got a job driving an ice cream truck in 1968. It was kinda fun and my first (and only) day, I made about 20 bucks. Went back to work the next day and the place was crawling with cops. Seems that a lot of the drivers were also selling weed as well as Bomb Pops, and the place got raided. I was questioned and released when I was able to show that I had just started.
Both were delivery jobs while I was attending college.
The first one was as a delivery boy for Papa John’s. I got as far as 5 minutes after the training video. That Papa John guy exudes douchebagery. I just couldn’t stand the guy. No Biggie, I thought. It’s not like I have to work with the guy. That’s when the owner came in. The dude looked and acted JUST LIKE the Papa John guy. I wondered if he could possibly be his brother. He closed the deal by informing me that he expected me to have my hair cut by the next day (I’ve always had shoulder length hair, usually in a neat and tidy pony tail). I laughed and walked out.
The other time was as a delivery boy for a Subway. On my very first delivery the guys in the kitchen took way too long to put together an order (I think they overlooked the ticket). What I didn’t realize until later on was that they also put a wet soda cup in the same bag as the sandwiches.
When I got the order to the customer, she bitched me out for being late. I stood there taking her abuse for like 2minutes, all the while holding the bag with her food in my hand. When she finally stopped complaining (and after informing me that there would be no tip), I went to hand her the bag with the food, but the bag (moistened by the wet soda cup) gave way and the soda and sandwiches fell to the floor. The customer cursed me out some more and told me to stay there while she called the manager. Manager said I would have to pay for the meal out of my own pocket. I told both of them to go fuck themselves and went home.
Except that the phone book companies are private for-profit companies, so I don’t think they can get those type of people. I’m pretty sure it has to be local government or charities.
When was that? I remember considering $18K jobs in 1991, but that wasn’t impressive money even then. In fact, using an online inflation calculator, I couldn’t live on that now. I now make double that in real terms.
About 3 hours. Due to recent legislation farmers were going to get a one-off payment based on certain measures. The call centre I applied for was basically “overflow” for the call centre that had had people trained and who knew what they were doing. What we got was a copy of the letter sent to farmers, a 10 point FAQ and nothing else.. We were not supposed to tell them to keep trying until they actually got the real people, nobody was available to give us advice about anything else and we were supposed to be able to answer any question. Despite the fact I didn’t have any other jobs as options, and remained unemployed for a few months afterwards, I said screw that and walked out.
Three hours.
I answered an ad for a “manager” with no details. Turns out to be schlepping framed pictures and paintings door-to-door and lying about them. “Oh, we had a hotel down the street we decorated, and these are extras. The boss says to get rid of them for pennies on the dollar.”
We actually met in the driveway of the company owner’s house - at that time, the largest house in Atlanta (30k square feet). They wanted us to see what was possible. Then, we’re off to the warehouse for a few minutes of training. They put us in “teams” and said don’t come back til every painting is sold. My team consisted of an 18 or 19yo boy and girl who immediately had the hots for each other. They kept looking at me like I’m a dirty old man driving them around. I think I was 23 or so. They were in the back seat touching and flirting the whole time, but if I looked back at them in the mirror, they’d give me the stinkeye!
We went to about half a dozen business, lied to them, sold nothing and I that was enough for me.
Ah, that reminds me of the actual shortest time I’ve kept a job. I said the whole JC Penney fiasco earlier because that was my most spectacular job quitting, and I was employed there rather briefly, but I suppose I forgot about the horrible “marketing” job I had for about an hour.
I responded to a job posting once that was thinly worded, while using somewhat lavish language about the “potential” and “room for growth” along with a long list of companies they’ve done work for, but (as it turned out) are barely even tangentially related to. Meaning they sell a product and Walt Disney also uses that product, so there, they market stuff that Walt Disney uses… and somehow that means the company has worked for them(?). I was a bit surprised when I arrived at the interview to find the whole business was apparently run out of a closet with a receptionist, and the “owner” of the company (he’s not the owner) who was interviewing me was some 23 year old shit. Sure, I was a 22 year old shit at the time, and it was still silly for me to take this kid seriously. I asked a lot of questions, and kind of got answers, and got a lot of outdated 80s corporate-speak. Anyway, enough about the interview. The point is it turned out to be a door-to-door sales job selling credit card terminals. I quit as soon as I completed my first “training” session.
That’s pretty much the same thing the ads for Global said. Did credit card terminal company also recruit in groups? That’s what Global did. I was late to one recruiting group and kept my eye on the classified section for the next one, and got in.
We got some spiel about how Global had recently entered the business of door-to-door encyclopedia sales. Those who were hired were given some clasroom time that consisted mainly of how to get invited inside and shown a little bank that we give to customers upon the completion of a sale, then we were paired up with some of the top sellers to watch them in action.
My first night out by myself was in a Manassas development; the second time I was invited in was with a family that already had a set of these Global Encyclopedias and their little plastic bank. These were like 15 years old! I thanked them for their time then sat on a public swingset the rest of the night until the boss came to pick me up.
I’ve applied to JC Penney twice. I must not be filling out the application right, because both times I was told, via the computer, something like “You are not a good fit for JC Penney.”
Makes me think twice about shopping there too.
Did they give you one of those personality quizzes? If so, you’re not supposed to answer honestly. If JC Penneys everywhere are at all similar, you’re not missing anything; I worked for a top-grade hell bitch.
Edit: Lute, no group recruiting that I’m aware of. They teamed me up with a “mentor” whose job was to train me in, but that’s it. My training consisted of us driving around in her car while we picked out a good strip mall, or some place with lots of small businesses next to each other, and then walking door to door and getting yelled at/asked to leave.
Two hours - Asphalt shingle plant, around 1981. Stinky, loud, dangerous.
A large machine cuts the shingles after the sand gets sprinkled on the hot asphalt. You are supposed to reach in there, grab & stack the shingles.
I watched a co-worker get the fingertip of his glove cut off, he just missed losing the finger itself. I was supposed to take his place while he went to get more gloves.
I decided to go home early instead, and never come back.
Loved the job, loved the co-workers, loved the location, but…
It was a temporary, 1-year appointment at a guvmint agency to fill in for a Reservist who was called-up, i.e., when Michelle returns, I’m fired. Also, no benefits. I was upfront and honest with my boss- Me: “I love it here,” (I’d worked there before) “but I’ve got to keep looking for permanent employment” Boss (an old friend) “Of course, I would, too.” I settled in to a great job in a great town, planning on seriously looking again in about six months.
On my second day my future boss calls my current boss (same agency, and they’re colleagues) and says “Tell me about kdeus, I think we’re gonna hire him.” Boss endorses me, calls me in and says “You’re a fool if you don’t take it.”
Broke my heart to leave.
It took me exactly 4 months to quit my job at The Jerry Springer Show, and that’s only after a pregnant meth-head left a death threat on my voicemail. Most people in my position (Associate Producer) lasted an average of 2 months. I quit the day my business cards arrived.
I worked 2-3 days for Burlington Coat Factory.
My first shift I show up and get introduced to the acting department supervisor. She laughingly explains that she is leaving in like an hour, and I will become acting department supervisor.
I was assigned to the youth coat department. It was the year that the puffy, triple down goose jackets were popular. Mothers would pull out coats, the kids would try them on, the mothers would throw them on the floor or stuff them on to the tops of the racks. I would have to re-hang them on the hangers and force their puffy goodness back on the rack. I was amazed by how much tricep/bicep workout that was and was literally cramping in my arms.
The slimy department manager from the other department then told me that the stock of christmas bears had come in and I needed to put them up on this high shelf that stretched around the top of the youth department like a 3-d border. The only way to reach it? One of those rolling step ladders with the grates.
I was wearing a skirt and heels and he offered to hold the ladder for me with a sleazy grin. I decided I would rather take my own life in my hands and just locked the stairs and worked alone - but he kept coming over to “check up on me” sometimes bringing his friends.
The second day was better as I wasn’t working alone and greaser-manager was off duty, but my arms hurt like holy hell. That night I had a nightmare that little kids were running up and down the aisles, throwing coats on the floor while the mothers swore it wasn’t them and sleaze boy kept sliding out under the rows of coats, trying to look up my skirt that seemed to get shorter and shorter.
I quit the next day, and came home to a voice mail from a call center saying they wanted to pay me $3/hr to answer inbound calls about store hours and fax machines.
That’s why I love Staples.
You should seriously do an “Ask the Former Associate Producer at The Jerry Springer Show” thread.
Umm - that should be $3 MORE an hour. Sorry!
Three days at a chicken processing plant. No, I wasn’t gutting chickens. I had a job in a walk in freezer. Next morning after my first shift my finger joints ached. I was only 22! Two more shifs and my hands barely worked at all. That was enough. I was back to normal a few days later.
There’s something about working in a freezer that messes up your joints. Even wearing coat and gloves.
I worked one week at an auto parts store.
I should have realized it, but it turns out everyone who goes to an auto parts store is pissed off because their car is broken. Just a bunch of grumpy people, all day long. Decided I didn’t want that kind of negativity in my life eight hours a day.
I definitely second this thought. (For starters, I was under the impression that the “guests” on Springer and the like were actually actors (in much the same way that pro wrestling is by actors and “staged” - and the choice of analogy was deliberate 
))
As for my own experiences to contribute (since I’m chiming in anyways), I don’t have anything near as good as most of the stuff here, plus, I’m the type that even if a job is crap, I’ll stay it out until the term is over (why are crap jobs always term?) or I’m fired, so my “shortest” times are probably a relatively long month or two.
Some similar experiences to what has been posted: had a temp job at a warehouse once where my job consisted of nothing but taking newly made boxes off a pallette (remember, they’re in the “flattened out” stage at this point) and folding them into a useable box. Caught on pretty quickly (15 years later I can make a box in record time, but don’t want to as I fulfilled a couple lifetimes’ quota in that month-long job) but I didn’t like having to stand all the time (standing for any period of time (even for the national anthem sometimes!) makes me light-headed sometimes) - so one of the first boxes I made (a relatively large one) I purloined and made into a seat (and put a couple of smaller boxes inside a little later to support my weight) - supervisor kept getting mad about that as there was no sitting allowed (that was the part they seemed to have a problem with, interestingly, not that I was using one of their boxes that was supposed to be for something else) but I managed to successfully get away with it (forget how) with only needing to have my box replaced once.
The other similar experience was the obligatory telemarketing job. When I was told about it by the temp agency, I was told it would be inbound calls from customers. At training, it seemed clear it was the opposite (ie outbound cold calling) - now I hate when those @#*(#()s call me, so you can imagine how much I liked being one of those @#*(#()s. I lasted 54 weeks at that job, which was 53 weeks, 6 days, 23 hours and 55 minutes longer than I should have (should have walked out when I found out it was outbound but, I stayed because I needed the money). Last day there I nearly punched out a computer because of the aggrivating nature of the job. Was called into the supervisor’s office at that point and figured I’d use the opportunity to quit before they fired me (which was the suspected reason I was called in in the first place - ie the old “you can’t fire me, I quit!” ploy). Interestingly, this happened on a Tuesday, and on the following Friday of that week I met a lovely woman at a Hallowe’en party who also quit her job the Wednesday before. So, despite the fact that we both quit our jobs that week, we started dating and nine months later we were married. Next week we’ll be celebrating the tenth anniversary of that first meeting, but I won’t be celebrating anything to do with that telemarketing job.