I was a still life model
for loraine Bobbett, until she gave me the chop....ouch
(bROKEN aRROW PUA HVI Master, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 15:42, Reply)

went to work at an offal factory
but they didn't like the cut of my giblets
( rofl harris, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 15:41, Reply)

I used to work as a potter
Until I was fired
(bROKEN aRROW PUA HVI Master, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 15:41, Reply)

I wanted to show them some sleight-of-hand ...
... they gave me my cards.
(BrianHequator was stretching owls, on, or around, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 15:40, Reply)

I used to work for a coal merchant
On my first day he gave me the sack.
(Vice Admiral Sir Charles Cockbrush KCB MBE DSO, who is finding it increasingly difficult to log into b3ta.com wants to duck your aunt and kick your puppy, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 15:40, 1 reply)

You can always tell when everyones had enough of this weeks qotw because
the puns come out in force........I used to be a butcher but I was given the chop :\
(bROKEN aRROW PUA HVI Master, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 15:39, Reply)

I used to custom-make clothing for choirboys
I was considered surplice to requirements.
(Vice Admiral Sir Charles Cockbrush KCB MBE DSO, who is finding it increasingly difficult to log into b3ta.com wants to duck your aunt and kick your puppy, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 15:38, Reply)

I used to sing sea shanties
But I was given the heave ho.
(Vice Admiral Sir Charles Cockbrush KCB MBE DSO, who is finding it increasingly difficult to log into b3ta.com wants to duck your aunt and kick your puppy, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 15:36, Reply)

I used to work in a shoe shop
but was given the boot.
(RVD420 has his world coming down on, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 15:32, Reply)

I once worked in a circus
but had to quit.

My boss was a clown.
( greg_evigan is possibly deceased on, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 15:23, Reply)

I used to be a coroner
One day I was given the elbow.
(Vice Admiral Sir Charles Cockbrush KCB MBE DSO, who is finding it increasingly difficult to log into b3ta.com wants to duck your aunt and kick your puppy, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 15:19, Reply)

I worked as a cashier
.. then I changed
(Biff..., Thu 17 Jun 2010, 15:17, Reply)

I used to work as a quarterback
One day I was sacked.
(Vice Admiral Sir Charles Cockbrush KCB MBE DSO, who is finding it increasingly difficult to log into b3ta.com wants to duck your aunt and kick your puppy, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 15:16, Reply)

I used to work as a human cannonball
I was fired.
(Vice Admiral Sir Charles Cockbrush KCB MBE DSO, who is finding it increasingly difficult to log into b3ta.com wants to duck your aunt and kick your puppy, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 15:15, Reply)

I used to work as a crane operator
I was told to sling my hook.
(Vice Admiral Sir Charles Cockbrush KCB MBE DSO, who is finding it increasingly difficult to log into b3ta.com wants to duck your aunt and kick your puppy, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 15:13, Reply)

last night my boss managed to miss 4 people lurking in the pub and locked up
luckily we hung around or we might have found their skeletons the next morning
(ladyintheradiator, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 15:07, Reply)

Strawberry picking with a host of Bulgarians aside, my least favourite job was with a French battery chicken farm.
It was for eggs rather than meat (you really wouldn't want to eat the birds after a few months of their life there), and it was hellish. Eventually I decided I'd had an oeuf.
(Falstaff's Spiritual Successor, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 14:54, 4 replies)

B3ta
As they seem to be watching the tv rather than updating the QOTW.

Move it, or pick up your P45!
(Suck it and Sea, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 14:48, 1 reply)

I used to work as a pantomime horse
Boy, did the boss ride me hard.
(MrOli is ugly, but in the morning you will be sober, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 14:36, Reply)

I used to be painter & decorator
Not one pay rise in 5 years. I quit in the end, was sick of them giving me the brush off.
(TheManWithThePlan cussed your mum on, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 14:32, Reply)

I used to work as a Dustman
But they treated me like garbage.
(MrOli is ugly, but in the morning you will be sober, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 13:42, 8 replies)

One amongst many tales from the supermarket years:
A few years back, predating chip-and-pin; there was a scheme run by APACS, in which they offered rewards of £50 for certain stolen credit cards that were spotted and confiscated. The sensible idea was that it was cheaper to pay a one-off cash sum, than to let those cards be used again and again to scam thousands of pounds. The scheme stated these payments were meant to go to the cashier, to reward vigilance. I'm sure you can see where this is going. Now, the company encouraged us to believe that we were eligible; putting up posters from them and so on.

After a spate of pulling in several cards (using my super autistic powers of hawk-like observation), I'm in a good mood becasue I've probably done a good deed helping end cases of identity theft; and I'm expecting a decent payout. I might even get to go on holiday this year! But, like the bloody naive idiot I am; after a few weeks of waiting I ask when they're likely to come through. I get a very evasive answer about how they won't. I pry, and it turns out that they've all already been claimed and pocketed by various managers.

Naturally, I'm upset; but I remain calm and rational. I point out that the scheme itself says that they are meant to go to the cashiers themselves. The duty manager responds (technically correctly) that it doesn't have to, and that they allocated these prizes amongst the bosses based on who made the actual phone call to confirm they were fraud cards. Yes, they claimed the person who did the least dangerous part of a retention (telephoning from the privacy and safety of the offices) deserved the cash; instead of the person who actually had to face the usually angry and often violent criminal when they realised their cover was blown, they've lost their source of free cigarettes / spirits / cash, and the police are likely coming to arrest them - people do get so upset at you when you shatter their easy life leeching.

I asked if I could do my own authorisation calls from now on, this was laughingly rejected. She then changed tactics, tried to justify it saying she needed the money. I pointed out that if that was the criteria, then I deserved it more; as I was still stuck on a part time contract, had a lower basic rate, and didn't get allowances (i.e. keyholders) like she did. She wouldn't look me in the eye, and just walked away without saying anything; and on that day I lost the last respect I had for her and her fellows. She sold out her former colleagues for a few notes.

edit: continued in replies
( The Incredible Sulk Finally remembered his password on, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 13:32, 8 replies)

Managers on coke
M.O.C; Order this, this and this. (They're promptly ordered).
M.O.C; Why have you ordered those?

Me; Because you asked me to.

M.O.C; No I didn't. I want these.

Me; Well, here's the list you gave me.

M.O.C; Let's not mention this again shall we?

And this was one of the least annoying ones.
( Blind Meach Cautiously optimistic, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 13:10, Reply)

It's a Record
When pre-recorded music mainly came in the form of vinyl discs I was the Quality Control Manager of a small record pressing plant in North London.

We had a series of orders from another pressing plant and worked flat out for several weeks to complete the orders. The time came for the bill to be paid and the news broke that the other plant was bankrupt! This had a rather serious impact on our own finances and we were days from closing.

But wait Salvation!! A bigwig bought the other pressing plant and then bought us too!

Great, but then we were made a subsidiary of the wankers who had bankrupted us in the first place!

We lasted barely three years under their "management" before we went to the wall.
( Vambo, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 12:39, Reply)

du, du, du, du, du, I’m loving it!
I’ve had a few crappy bosses as I mentioned earlier, but I think the best of the worst was with part time jobs whilst at college. Just because it didn’t really mater, it wasn’t like I had a mortgage or bills to pay.

One of my first jobs was in a Numark Chemist in ilford, at 15 years old I was handed a white doctors style coat and told they’d show me the ropes. Which basically involved running up and down stairs of a creaky old town house with boxes of supplies for the pharmacy. All their products were in cages and stored rather precariously on shelves, there wasn’t enough room to swing a cat and the fire exits were chained and padlocked shut. It was like an episode of London’s Burning that they were waiting to film. When I went to put my hand in my pocket I discovered that both pockets on the Doctors coat were glued shut with some kind of industrial strength glue and wouldn’t budge. When I asked one of the other counter monkeys why my pockets were glued closed I was told it was so I wouldn’t nick anything! I worked from 8.30am till 6.00pm with a 30 min break for lunch, at the end of the day I was given an envelope with a fiver in it, it was less the fifteen quid they were taking out of my wages for the doctors lab coat. Needless to say I only worked there for the day.

Next up were a few weeks in summer working at McDonalds while I was doing my BA. I needed to find a source of income and they were hiring so I sat through the cheesy training and health and safety videos and away I went. Before I knew it I was front of house, calling orders out like ‘Order up, large Big Mac and fries, on 2’, it was awful and every minute of it made me cringe. But like the other drones, I just got into the routine and got on with the unsociable hours, the burger stink, and constantly being cheerful. After about 2 weeks of being there one of the regular team got promoted to shift manager, I’d seen the communication on the notice board but to be honest it’d barely hit my radar, he was just one of the many people that worked there. Well within the first day of his new job everyone knew who he was, he was a complete cock. Not only did he have the worst case of small man syndrome that I’d ever seen but he was so damned arrogant, patronizing and rude to everyone, and he was really spotty. Baring in mind he was only in his early 20’s and probably knew bugger all about anything he really seemed to love lording it over people and belittled staff at every opportunity he got. He made people cry regularly and would shout across the cooking area at people who he felt could either work quicker, smile more, reduce the amount of salad they were putting in buns and stop giving away company profits (yes, he actually said that), you know really encouraging us to embrace the…du, du, du, du, du, I’m loving it! Ethic. The hours were crap, the work was boring and mundane and the conversation was hardly stimulating and dealing with that burke daily was really starting to wear me down. Anyway after a 5am start I was due to finish my shift at 2pm and my dad was picking me up. So spotty the short arse decided that as the lunch cover hadn’t come back from their break yet because he had cocked up the rota I’d have to stay until they did. He wouldn’t let me go out to tell my dad who I could see waiting outside, 10 mins passed and I was still there, 20 mins and I turned around and told him I really had to go and started to untie my apron. Wailing like a banshee he screamed at me, ‘take that apron off girl and you’re F***ing sacked!’ Get back to your till. His timing couldn’t have been more perfect, no sooner had the words left his mouth than I saw my dad out the corner of my eye. My dad, reached across the counter grabbed him by the throat and dragged him straight back over it, threw him on the floor and explained in no un-certain terms that he had no right to speak to me or anyone else like that. He then told him to get my f***ing money now as I wouldn’t be coming back. Thanks Dad, McDonalds sucked!
(Muckynambird, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 12:37, 10 replies)

More lousy software and the work - arounds it causes.
Several years ago the organisation I work in (not for much longer) got away from paper case files and replaced them with computer files. Most of the documents are in pdf form and the most important ones can be very long, anything from 10 pages to 400 plus, typically 80 to 120. These documents contain a lot of repetitious padding that is all but irrelevant to us, but also contain technical terms such as chemical and drug names and the multitude of synonyms they have. We need to find these names pretty damn quick since the management keeps on raising the required work rate.

There are about 200 people using this system on a nearly daily basis. While the system was being discussed and developed ten years ago, the potential users kept on asking for the ability to text search these large documents. This was ignored.

At the same time the users have to compare the pdf document with one to a dozen other documents of similar size downloaded from a source that uses a different file type called cpc. There is a text searchable version of this but of course it is more expensive and so the el cheapo non - searchable version was selected, again despite requests for text searchable versions.

While it is possible to text search pdf documents for particular words, the version in the main system cannot be searched. This leads to users either downloading versions of the main document from the net in pdf or other form or digging the document out of the case file and running an optical character recognition on it.

The storage and money savings made on el cheapo cpc versions are lost because the users ignore the cpc versions and obtain text searchable pdf versions and save them in the same folders, probably tripling the storage needed.

In answer to a chorus of complaint from the users, management's reply was that the system "met 95% of our business needs".

Bullshit.
(Redemption blamed it on the Bossa Nova since, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 11:50, Reply)

Inadvertantly bad I think.
Mrs Sandettie used to work in the reception of a hosptal lab, processing samples as they arrived. After a few years, she moved to a different part of the lab and moved up a pay band. This caused some contention with a few of the staff she worked with, especially a couple who had applied for the same job and had been there longer. Apparently though, it's a points based system once in the interview room.

My response was "fuck em, if they can't be arsed to progress and are happy to stay in the same job for years on end, that's their outlook"

15 months later, she managed to progress again. A different part of the lab, immunology or haemotology I think; more hands on, more advanced duties, a damn sight more interesting. This annoyed yet more people, especially one guy who has a science degree, whereas Mrs SLVA has a 'c' in GCSE biology from 20 years ago.

Now, much like me, she will not brown nose anyone, at all. She gets on with her work. Yet her new boss thinks the sun shines out of her arse and is pushing her more, putting her on an NVQ course with the aim of getting her onto a degree course.

She was recently given the task (which should've been carried out by someone more senior) of going back down to the reception and 'training' her former colleagues to make sure there are no gaps in their knowledge. I told her that it will reveal who her true friends are, and frankly it has.

I don't know if this seemingly preferential treatment outweighs the friction it causes.
( sandettie light vessel automatic New Twitter - @bollocksreally, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 11:49, 2 replies)

OK one more.
I worked for one of the two major players in our market. In the Computer Weekly rag we'd spotted a recruitment campaign for our major rivals, looking for IT staff. They were offering more money and more benefits, but were at the other end of the country.

3 of us submitted our CVs to see what came of it. We were called down for an interview and a battery of psychometric tests and role-play nonsense.

They got back to us a week later, offering us all jobs. The other 2 bit their hands off, but I decided against it. It was a good offer - more money, good benefits, but I had a lot going on at the time - I'd just bought a new flat, was getting married in a couple of months etc - and it just seemed like the wrong time for a major move 100s of miles away to the other end of the country. Perhaps I would be making a huge mistake, but only time would tell.

The IT director and Divisional director came up and took me out to lunch to try to convince me to change my mind.

The conversation went something like this:

Divisional Director : Look Reverend, we've looked at the results of your interview, your role-playing, and your psychometric tests, and we really want you to come and join us.

RF: Yes, I see what you're saying, it's a great offer, and I'm really tempted - it's not that I'm not interested - but there's just too much going on in my life right now....

DD: But Reverend, the results indicate that you have the perfect personality to be an IT Manager...

RF: *looks surprised, then chuckles*

DD: What is it Reverend?

RF: Um..look, I'm really flattered - I really am. No offence....but all the IT Managers I've ever worked for have been arseholes.

DD: *looks at IT Director and bursts out laughing*

IT Director: *blushes*

We parted on good terms - well with the Divisional Director at least.
(Reverend Fister "a disciplined fuckwit", Thu 17 Jun 2010, 10:48, Reply)

After 18 years working in IT there should be more than this, but this'll do for now
At a previous employer, my boss wrote on my appraisal that although my work quality was very good, I did seem to be the social epi-centre of the office. This was management-wank-speak for 'talks too much in class'.

OK fair enough, he had a point. I like a chat. I'm an IT guy with social skills, but I'm not going to apologise for it.

However, this was the very same manager who once stood at my desk for 90 minutes (no exaggeration at all) talking to me about American Football.
(Reverend Fister "a disciplined fuckwit", Thu 17 Jun 2010, 10:34, 2 replies)

Errr
Lotus Notes
(Redemption blamed it on the Bossa Nova since, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 10:11, 21 replies)