Dishwasher with a bra full of food
The worst three weeks of my life were spent "on the line" in my college cafeteria dishwasher room (I was hired as a food server, but a last minute change moved me into Hell Central). My job: As dirty food trays entered the dishwasher room on a conveyor belt, I cleared the trash (partially eaten food, used paper products, unidentifiable muck) and placed the used trays, dishes, etc. in the appropriate racks to run through the huge automatic dishwashers. Some of the racks were taller than I, so I had to reach over my head to place filthy, dripping dishes in them. Within five minutes, I would have liquids and semi-solids running down the entire length of my body. Within 15 minutes, I'd be soaked to the skin. The room was always a very steamy 100+ degrees (Fahrenheit). I often didn't have time between the end of my work shift and my next class to run back home to shower, which did little to enhance my academic and social lives. This job ended up improving my health because I was using the money primarily to buy cigarettes; however, the job was so awful I decided to quit, even though it meant I had to give up smoking. I still get cigarette cravings, but nothing kills them like the memory of my armpits and bra being loaded with macaroni & cheese, chocolate milk and someone else's saliva.
(bunnybutt, Fri 28 May 2010, 22:13, 3 replies)

That sounds fucking horrible
Clicky for your pain.
( Rev. Jayneflakes Buy my book, I need the cash for drugs and hookers, Fri 28 May 2010, 22:22, closed)

Bloody hell
I did the same thing, but managed to only get the nasty stuff down my trousers, which I then changed at the end of the shift. Either you're really quite small, or we had different dishwashers.

Still, I sympathise. It was rank. *click*
( sanityclause is waiting until, Fri 28 May 2010, 22:29, closed)

I noticed..
At a summer school at a university on the UK south coast, they had a similar system. I've spent years on and off in the catering industry, and so could imagine the hell beyond the plastic slats on the conveyer. I know it wasn't much, but I always wrote a little "Thank you" note on my napkin after every meal. It's not much, I know, but still...
(Beer Elf Thought this was like a campfire, anyhow, on, Sat 29 May 2010, 19:45, closed)