Apple picking
I once applied for a job as an orange picker in Queensland, Australia. I said I had picked fruit on a professional basis for over 5 years, but the truth was I had only ever bought it from the shop.

The terrifying boss gave me a trial run along with a few others. He handed us all these aprons with pockets at the front for putting the fruit in, but I somehow put it on upside down. I tried to get it off and tripped over the strap, and fell over. I don't know how but I somehow got stuck inside the apron, lying in a fetal position, strapped up and unable to move.

A couple of others that weren't too astonished to move helped me out, and the boss roared "YOU'RE NO ORANGE PICKER!".

I said "No, as I said before, I'm an apple picker".
A kind swiss man confirmed "ze apples is so different to ze oranges, please don't be too harsh".

I was given the benefit of the doubt and was promoted to lemons within 3 weeks, until I got a spider stuck in my ear (another story).
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 16:48, 1 reply)

Heh, heh.
I did my time picking fruit and veg in Queensland, where I met the two friends who were instrumental in my moving to Wakefield (I'll forgive them one day). One of them was as colour-blind as you can get, which might be seen as an impediment when asked to pick *only* red or *only* green capsicums (peppers to me and thee), but since he was one a fuckoff great picking machine with about 30-40 other smelly backpackers and conveyors belts all over the place, he lasted almost a week before they managed to pinpoint the idiot who was ruining every batch...
(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 10 Jul 2008, 17:12, closed)