ChiTownScion
Call Me a Cab
- Messages
- 2,245
- Location
- The Great Pacific Northwest
....As for factory work, the year I spent in the t-shirt factory radicalized me more than reading any book or listening any speech ever possibly could. It was almost thirty years ago, but it still affects me to this day.
Mine was several boots in the arse that I needed along the way as a "gentle reminder" for many hard learned lessons. To stay in school and complete the course, obviously... but also one of many reminders to be grateful for what I have and avoid wallowing in a sense of entitlement.
Had several non-factory (hospital security) jobs that did that as well. Not bad jobs, really... at least compared to factory work. It paid fairly decently as well, at least for a single person. But I had to deal with drunks, punks, and a hospital caste system (at least at one institution, now shuttered) that treated the Dr. Mucus Welby's and Their Golden Stethoscopes, and the administrators in suits, as gods worthy of Olympus... while the housekeeping and food service staff (without whom no hospital could function) as untouchables. Security officers were somewhere in the middle... definitely lower on the food chain than the diploma grads in nursing who made up 90% of the RN's. But the worst part was never--EVER---being able to enjoy a weekend or a regular holiday off.
I kept a handcuff key from the last security gig on my key ring for years. It served as a gentle reminder: dealing with jerk clients, childish judges, and reality challenged prosecutors (who'd never held a job in their lives until Daddy made a phone call to get them their current position) was not the worst of all worlds. I was damned fortunate, because I had a small taste of how miserable life could have been, and there but for the grace of the Almighty/ pure dumb luck/ decent people along the way giving me a break, a miserable few months or years could have been a lifetime sentence of misery.
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