Saturday job

[meggersdog]

When I was 14 I got a Saturday job working at the village garage.This was a one bay single ramp 1950's built place where working outside under axle stands was the norm.I started off tidying up,sweeping the floor,putting tools away emptying the bins and setting light to the rubbish around the back,sticking aerosol cans in the middle of the fire and standing back waiting for the explosion in a teenager kind of way.I soon progressed to "forecourt attendant" checking oil and water levels,pumping up tyres and serving petrol.Anyway in the village lived a retired army colonel who most people in the village hated with a vengence.My first encounter with this delightful chap was as a 14 year old seving him petrol.Now back in 1980 the pump nozzles were alloy with no automatic cut-off so you had to listen for the fuel to gurgle as it was coming up the neck.This was quite difficult as all the while the retired conolen is stood at the side of me mumbling.After he had gone my boss came over and asked if he said anything to me.Well yes he had whilst I'm filling his car up with petrol this charming retired gent was saying over and over "don't spill it you little c*nt"My first encounter with this chap left such an impression I can still remember it vividly thirty years on.Anyone else have any memorable experiences of Saturday jobs ?

[ashmicro]

Worked in my local motor factors as a Saturday job in my yoof. Not long after I started a punter came in and chucked a Chevette alternator at me, while yelling "THAT'S NO FUCKING USE!!"I chucked it back at the fat git yelling "THAT'S NOT FUCKING ACCEPTABLE!"I further chucked a tin of Hammerite at him for good measure.

[Cavcraft]

I worked as an assistant gardener at a local hotel for a quid a morning. The gardener was an ace Irish fella who must have been well into his seventies.We spend more time in the potting shed chatting shit whilst he added more and more whiskey to his tea than actually gardening.Cracking bloke who occasionally got so pissed he'd go to sleep in the wheelbarrow and fall out

[Cheggers]

I worked as an assistant gardener at a local hotel for a quid a morning. The gardener was an ace Irish fella who must have been well into his seventies.

We spend more time in the potting shed chatting shit whilst he added more and more whiskey to his tea than actually gardening.

Cracking bloke who occasionally got so pissed he'd go to sleep in the wheelbarrow and fall out

 

[Cavcraft]

ROFL!

[Andrew353w]

Saturday mornings (7am-3pm) and Sunday evenings (3-11pm) every week I wasn't at college or university was spent as a petrol pump attendant in my home town of Bideford, Devon. 4 star was £1.18 a gallon and I was being paid to get a suntan! Can't remember my rate of pay but it was one of the best jobs ever! We had a tanker delivery twice a week in the summer (the garage was on the main A39 road to Cornwall) and my little Daf always had a free fill up when it came the tanker unloaded! I had to climb up the tanker to do the dips, which only recorded the approximate levels and the delivery meter was the old clockwork type. I filled up a Wartburg one Saturday morning; I remember it well. It was a turquoise estate and when the guy poured some oil into the fuel I thought he was mad. The guy must have been an enthusiast for them, as he patiently explained how the engines worked and why oil was put into the fuel tank. What come around goes around, as I'm forever explaining why I'm putting oil in my Wartburg's fuel!

[Father Ted]

At 14 I was the Wonder of Woolies (store 1053/2)

After fooking up at college and not really getting on with GEC Monday to Friday making motor coils I managed to get full time hours at Woolyworths before making assistant manager at store 843 St Annes.

Then I had a blazing row with my boss and called her a cnut one day and walked off the job.

 

Did I pinch Pick N Mix??? Do bears shit in the woods?!

[Pillock]

 

I worked at Maplin Electronics in Norwich. Great bunch of guys there, always ready to mess around with something expensive and then hide the evidence. Spent my weekends bagging up components for - for want of a better word - nerds who would go home and fail to build what they were trying to build because we were too hung over to pick the right resistors.

We started opening sundays just after I started, but were the only shop in Norwich city centre to do so hence it was completely deserted. The fun factor increased by 400% on Sundays therefore, and we'd go and zero off a load of batteries from stock and race remote controlled cars around the store, or program the dot-matrix signs to say rude things. If it was dark in the evening we'd even break out the night-vision goggles, lock the front door and go and run around the streets for a bit.

 

Miss it, I really do but the pay was abysmal even on full-time. I was offered FT but at £8k a year, turned it down. Part time I was on £2.58 an hour in 1998, minimum wage coming into force at £3.60 nearly bankrupted the company!