<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/plusone.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d14058325\x26blogName\x3dChiswickite++-+formerly+The+Croydonian\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dBLUE\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttps://croydonian.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den_GB\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://croydonian.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d5887652838424436549', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>

What's the oddest job you've ever had?

Saw this on a (cough), non-political place I hang out on:

"My ex-sister-in law got a great job counting wildlife. (I still call her "the weasel counter"). Actually, she was a marmot counter -or "marmoteer". She trapped them all summer and painted numbers on their butts. With Lady Clairol Basic Brown".
« Home | Next »
| Next »
| Next »
| Next »
| Next »
| Next »
| Next »
| Next »
| Next »
| Next »

Blogger Peter Hitchens said... 12:09 pm

I seem to recall listening to a peter cook &dudley moore record where dudley recounted a job he had that involved lobsters and jane mansfield.that was a starnge although probably quite rewarding occupation.  

Blogger Rigger Mortice said... 12:30 pm

I once worked on a dairy farm.worst bit-pulling out a retained afterbirth.Haven't smelt anything like it since  

Blogger Croydonian said... 1:25 pm

Grim stuff Rigger. I was once tasked with scrubbing down the outside of an office with roller towel tied to a broom. Utterly pointless beyond allowing the office manager to use up his capitation allowance before year end.  

Anonymous Ellee said... 2:36 pm

I once had a holiday job removing foreign bodies from a conveyor belt full of freshly picked peas which were destined for cans.  

Blogger Peter Hitchens said... 2:41 pm

rigger i can out do that
my mother found me summer holiday work "bottling up" in a pub , she used to organise all the promotion nightfor a large brewery, now this pub had a great dane that had just had puppies and one day i was told to go into the part of the cellar where it was with its litter and drag out the carpet it had given birth on, placenta an all, whist doing so the huge fucker jumped up and tried to attack me , chasing me up the steps, from that moment on I never regretted all the beer i pinched.  

Blogger Peter Hitchens said... 2:47 pm

this is a rich vein
A chap i know was going through a rough patch and was desperate for money (drink money) so he took up the kind offer of another acquaintance for casual work, this other chap was at that time a second hand car salesman turned undertaker, his first job was to pick up an old man who had been found dead in his bed, unfortunately he had been there for a fortnight, and it was summer, when they lifted him onto the trolley the back of his head fell off, now that is a bad job.  

Blogger istanbultory said... 3:49 pm

A rich vein of discussion, indeed.

How about the chaps who do stool analysis (especially in cases of suspected dysentry) at your local NHS Trust hospital? Spare a thought for their valiant efforts...

See also:

And the worst jobs in science:

Blogger Peter Hitchens said... 6:48 pm

examining shit, now that is a pretty poor career choice.
It reminds me of a spike milligan anecdote, he had a dose of dysentery and crapped his pants, so he ran in to marks and spencer, probably with a light sheen of sweat on his face, and bought some new ones, then grabbed what he thought was his bag and dashed out of the shop to the nearest public lavatory, sat on the pan with a sigh of relief, pulled off his shit filled pants, had a good wipe and opened his carrier bag only to discover that in his haste to leave the shop he had grabbed somebody else's bag and instead of a clean pair of pants he had a womans woolly cardigan.
My father has a similar anecdote, waiting for a train at Piccadilly station manchester he decided to use the toilets, there being no hook he put his jacket over the top of the cubicle door and then started to read a newspaper (classy), when he had finished he looked up and found somebody had stolen his jacket and wallet and so reported it to the police, worse thing was it appeared in a local newspaper under the heading
"Disley man caught with his pants down"  

Blogger Andrew Kennedy said... 7:01 pm

In my early years I landed a very cushy job as a cocktail bar-tender on a luxury cruise liner.

As my bar was the last to close each evening I was lumbered with the "death watch".

Basically, every night after I had cashed-up and closed the bar at about 2am, I had to complete a circular tour of the ships public spaces gently nudging the many ageing comatose passengers to check they were still alive.

Apparently this duty started following an incident in the early 1980's when an Indian night cleaner had "hoovered" and dusted around a dead passenger, leaving him to be found by the early morning deck quoits players.  

Blogger Peter Hitchens said... 7:24 pm

Mr kennedy
I am reliably informed that the scariest part of being crew on a cruise liner is all the ladies of a certain age looking for "love" .  

Blogger Andrew Kennedy said... 7:34 pm

not just the ladies !  

Blogger Rigger Mortice said... 8:33 am

you two are frightening me  

» Post a Comment