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Worst place you've ever worked?


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"New Generation Systems", or Kirby Hoovers as they're better known, back when i was about 19.

I'd just chucked my college course, and needed a job, any job. So i got interviewed and was one of the lucky 12 invited back to the induction.

The whole thing was hilarious. We sat through some fat ginger salesman try to tell us that the biggest selling area for a £919 vacuum cleaner was Fintry :lol:, then watched him demonstrate (and completely fail) to take it apart, and put it together again. The guy was an utter clown. The best part though, was the video. It was hosted by a clearly very skint William Shatner, telling us how great Kirby Hoovers were. I must have sat there open-mouthed in disbelief at the surreality of it all.

At the end of the day, we got told how much money we could make, at which point (coincidentally i'm sure) some young ned in a shirt and tie, who looked like he'd had an epileptic fit in the Elizabeth Duke Jewellery Section at Argos came in and told us in a thick Dundee accent that he'd made a "Thoosan Pound" in the last fortnight.

The final act of disbelief came when we were told how to sell these things in teams of two, and given a script which beggared belief. It was basically a guide in how to scare old people/folk who didn't know any better, and how to get them to sign up to credit agreements they could never afford. c***s.

I decided not to go back on day two :lol:

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"New Generation Systems", or Kirby Hoovers as they're better known, back when i was about 19.

I'd just chucked my college course, and needed a job, any job. So i got interviewed and was one of the lucky 12 invited back to the induction.

The whole thing was hilarious. We sat through some fat ginger salesman try to tell us that the biggest selling area for a £919 vacuum cleaner was Fintry :lol:, then watched him demonstrate (and completely fail) to take it apart, and put it together again. The guy was an utter clown. The best part though, was the video. It was hosted by a clearly very skint William Shatner, telling us how great Kirby Hoovers were. I must have sat there open-mouthed in disbelief at the surreality of it all.

At the end of the day, we got told how much money we could make, at which point (coincidentally i'm sure) some young ned in a shirt and tie, who looked like he'd had an epileptic fit in the Elizabeth Duke Jewellery Section at Argos came in and told us in a thick Dundee accent that he'd made a "Thoosan Pound" in the last fortnight.

The final act of disbelief came when we were told how to sell these things in teams of two, and given a script which beggared belief. It was basically a guide in how to scare old people/folk who didn't know any better, and how to get them to sign up to credit agreements they could never afford. c***s.

I decided not to go back on day two :lol:

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I've only ever worked in one place, and that one place was Poundland.

"Excuse me, is this a pound?"

OF COURSE IT IS A FUCKING POUND!

I work in Poundland and I get asked this 20 times a day at least. I think they pay people to do it to try and break me.

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Campsie Spring water bottling plant.

Place was full of junkies, alkies and general rejections from society. I worked 12 hr nightshifts (8 till 8 ) and countless times I had my stuff stolen. To clarify, all personal stuff had to be left in the canteen room . My bag was regularly ransacked. From my sandwiches and crisps , juice to cigarettes.

Also, half the nightshift store staff used to go to the pub for a few hours and leave us to it.

I could say more but I will see if anyone responds first.

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Working as a student at the now departed Manual Brickworks near Linlithgow. Students got the jobs nobody else would do and in a brickworks that puts you a long way down the feeding chain. My job was to climb onto bogies that had just come out of a kiln with a base layer of bricks on it. These had to be lifted off and any surplus sand swept from the bogie. They then had tio be put back on before other bricks were placed on the bogie further down the line. 10 weeks. 10 fuckin weeks. See when you look back to golden summers of your youth, it wasn't like that at all. There were long periods of mind numbing shite. Oh aye, the foreman was an arsehole. And the bogs were fuckin rancid. The women were ... indescribable ... and not in a good way. Maybe it was better if you worked there for years. Better than being on the dole which is an option now given the place doesn't exist.

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