In 1980 I was signed up with a temp agency, and they sent me out on a job to work at Rickel’s. It’s a Home Depot-type store. Anyway, my sole responsibility was to stand in front of the store and every 5 minutes I had to count the number of people standing on line at each cashier (about 10 or 15 cashier lines). All day. Every day. Nothing else. I did it for 3 days. They wanted me to do it for a full two weeks, but I just couldn’t stand it.
I also worked as a waitress in a diner for about an hour a half.
The only non-temp job I can think of that I left in less than a week was detassling corn back in my days of living in Indiana.
It’s a job that regularly recruits 12-year-olds, because NO ONE older than that would ever want to do it. They have other options. 12 years was the youngest legal age for this type of work in Indiana at the time, so I jumped on it.
4 straight hours of picking the tassles off corn tops. In July–90+ degrees, 90% humidity. And you needed to wear jeans and long sleeves, or else you’d get corn rash otherwise. No breaks, no rest, no nothing. It sucked, but I managed to function by listening to hours of audiotapes on my walkman.
On day 6, the supervisor said no more Walkmans. They were distracting us from the work. Eff that!
That was my last day.
(BTW, I, too, delivered newspapers but actually loved it…but my route was small, I walked it, and I got to meet all kinds of people in the neighborhood. I quit only because my parents made me–they didn’t want their 12yro child walking around in the dark by herself at odd hours of morning.)
Hmm…I said “4 straight hours” of detassling corn, which makes it sound like it was part time. Nope. It was 4 straight hours, then lunch, then four more hours. No breaks. Yuck.
It didn’t help that on the first day the supervisor said “This is the hardest job you’ll ever have.” Great.
I worked at Steak & Ale for a week (the length of my training class). I was 18 at the time. They threatened to fire me halfway through the training because I couldn’t remember the various weights and cuts of steak and their marinades, and most of the other things on the menu. I’m not good at memorizing things quickly, so they gave me until the end of the training. I was still having problems though, so I ended up telling them that I was thinking about moving to Las Vegas with a friend the next to last day of my training, and wouldn’t be back.
I was there four days, and I never went back to get my paycheque.