To all the jobs I've had before..

Let's face it; working is sometimes not so much fun. There are the jobs we tolerate as we get older, but I think the ones we had throughout high school and college tend to be the hellish ones that stick with us a little more profoundly.
As I'm embarking on a real job search these days and hoping to get myself above the poverty line, I've been thinking about the jobs I had in my teens, and man, did they suck.
Horrible Job #1: Working as a salesclerk at a store in Macon, Mississippi, called Fun Fashions for a woman who was the biggest bitch I had met to date. Not only were the clothes reprehensible..I believe our big seller was a line of plain white t-shirts that you could hitch up with a decorative "t-shirt clip," and the shirts had various designs painted on them, flowers, etc...
Then, you would pair these victimized t-shirts with a variety of knit pants that came in 3 or 4 designs..OY. I was 17 when I worked there, and I remember the height of that summer was when I came in wearing a sundress that I thought I looked quite fetching in and the turkey-necked, not-so-attractive trogladyte that was my boss freaked out and told me to either go home and change into something appropriate, or put one of her t-shirts on. Never mind the fact it was the dead of summer in Mississippi and aforementioned dress was perfectly appropriate, I went home to change because I think my body would've broken out in hives had I ever actually worn any of her clothes.
Horrible Job #2: Working in the shoe department at Sears. This was a short-lived endeavor, two weeks to be exact, but it was really creepy. I don't know if you've ever worked for a corporation store like that, but it's very weird. First, they "orient" you for a week, making you watch propaganda about the store and its genesis. You actually have to take a test on how much you know about the history of the store. When does that come in handy when shoving oversized feet into shoes too small for them?
I can't say in my illustrious career there that I ever said, "But, did you know that the ad campaign 'The Softer Side of Sears' revitalized our revenue'?"
I trained for a week, worked the floor for a week, and at the end of that week, I told my co-worker I was going on a break, and I drove away. I gotta say, I didn't really feel that badly about it either. I was a little embarrassed to go retrieve my single paycheck, but I soldiered through it.
Horrible Job #3: In true fashion, I've saved the best for last. Part of the summer before my sophomore year in college and into the year, I worked as a yogurt monkey at TCBY. Oh, my God, how much did I hate this job.
First of all, I was working with high school students; that's always a reaffirming aspect of a job, when you're four to five years older than everyone you work with, and you're suddenly "the weird, old girl" at 19.
There were no real redeeming qualities to this job. They scheduled our shifts just so there was no way we could ever take a lunch break. I don't know if this was legal or not, I just know there were many nights when I ate cookie dough for a meal because I was so hungry.
Also, our shirts were green polyester, which is always hot, but it didn't really matter because I wouldn't have wanted a nicer shirt. I came home every night, sticky and smelling like milk. I couldn't look at yogurt for about 3 years after that.
I was not a good yogurt monkey. Every time I had to make anything that involved blending, I got the stupid sleeve stuck, and yogurt would go everywhere, hence the stickiness and smelling like milk.
I once had a 15-year-old give me a lecture about doing my job better and basically decided after that, that my limit had been discovered...and reached, and I quit.
The best thing out of that job was on my last day, I gave free stuff away to all my friends and filled up quart and pint containers of our favorite yogurt and took them home.
Stealing? Perhaps. Justified? Oh, definitely.
I like to think when I'm a famous author or politician or whatever fabulous thing I turn out to be, they'll ask me, "What's the worst job you ever had"? And I really won't even have to think about it.
Of course, I'm completely ignoring a job in Mississippi that sucked my soul for almost four years, but I feel it wouldn't be prudent to discuss that at this juncture.