Five bullshit teenage summer jobs that were better than your actual career

LOW-PAID summer jobs for unskilled teenagers are notoriously awful, but were they really worse than your current job? Or much, much better? 

Waiter

You never thought you’d look back fondly on balancing hot plates on your forearm or calmly telling dipshits that rare steak is supposed to look like that. At least then the ordeal was seasonal and were still living with your parents so all your wages went on booze. Your current job will last until you die and can barely cover the rent.

Shelf-stacker

Numbingly tedious at the time, pleasantly straightforward and rewarding now you’re reminiscing about it. You didn’t have to send emails. Office smalltalk was non-existent. And there were no bullshit meetings. It was just you and the shelves and your imagination. Maybe you should go back to it? It’s not like that job’s under threat from AI.

Lifeguard

Sitting on a tall chair by a municipal pool for hours on end doing f**k all was monotonous, but the risk of death and the occasional in Speedos kept you alert. You had a little whistle and could tell kids off for bombing. Nothing in your current role gives you anything like that level of satisfaction.

Warehouse operative

Trudging around a warehouse wearily retrieving items wasn’t the summer you had in mind as a teenager, but it was a laugh, when the supervisor wasn’t around they’d lift you up and zip about on the forklift, and during night shifts you’d sleep on a high pallet. You didn’t know it at the time but that was when your working life peaked.

Kitchen porter

Washing dishes was shit, but you didn’t have to take it home with you. And when your kitchen got a dishwasher all you were doing was loading and unloading while flirting with the front of house staff. It might not have been your dream gig, but you’d f**king jump at a fortnight of it now.

Sign up now to get
The Daily Mash
free Headlines email – every weekday
privacy

How to use your job's tiny amount of power to be a total dick

WOULD you ideally like the power of life and death over others, but have to make do with minimal authority? Here’s how to pretend you’re Caligula anyway:

Be a professional harbinger of doom

Plumber? Scare every homeowner shitless with a tale of a leaking pipe that quietly waterlogged a house until it had the structural integrity of a wet tissue. The insurance didn’t cover it, naturally. Who’d have thought replacing a washer would have people cowering at dark forces only you can defeat?

Make an anodyne office a place of fear

In the real world, people don’t take one second of shit from a nobody like you. In your minor management roleyou have the power to hire and fire, to ruin a life with a performance review, and to rule a tiny kingdom of fear. The office atmosphere is toxic enough to have a lab rat clawing its own brain out and it’s all down to you.

Learn every petty rule

Even the little ones. As a train conductor, it’s your job to sneer at naive customers asking for a ticket from London to Liverpool via Manchester as if they’ve just requested the moon on a presentation stand. Inform them they could have saved £60 by splitting their ticket between Milton Kenyes and Presto but they didn’t, like morons.

Guard the gates with your very life

Do you stand between the public and someone really important, like a doctor or judge? Act as if you’re manning the drawbridge at a castle. Never let anyone through. Every patient stuck at home with itchy piles is a marauding Mongol warrior kept safely at bay.

Threaten to walk

Builders, unjustly, don’t have the powers of the Gestapo. But they can threaten to leave an extension half-finished. Leave this possibility hanging darkly in the air to continue to be brought tea and Homewheat by the lady of the house as a grovelling offering to her new masters.

Split hairs

Get into detail. Was that car really parked between the lines, or slightly over? Can the driver prove they haven’t overstayed their 30 minutes, or haven’t returned within two hours? Don’t they realise your power is absolute in this situation and they exist at your whim?

Relish the delivery of bad news

‘I’m afraid there will be no further flights today,’ should be said with an undercurrent of sadistic joy to the couple missing their daughter’s wedding. ‘Sorry, no refunds,’ should be your favourite sentence. ‘Nothing we can do, sir,’ should convey your barely-concealed delight. You love working with people. It’s so rewarding.