I'm borrowing an idea from a co-worker at our sister station KWWK in Rochester.  Curt St. John blogged asking what was your worst summer job?  I had a very easy time answering that question.  Didn't have to think about it at all.  Without a doubt, the worst summer job I ever had was when I was 15 years old.  Our next-door neighbor managed the Maintenance Department at a local hotel.  He very kindly offered me a summer job at the hotel.  With dollar signs instead of eyeballs, I eagerly said "yes please!".

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That eagerness disappeared about a week later.  I went to work in the hotel's laundry washing sheets and towels.  It was horrible.  Imagine how nasty hotel laundry can be, especially after a weekend of drunk tourists.  Not only were the sheets disgusting, the laundry room was ghastly hot.  I begged my father to let me quit but my pleading fell on deaf ears.  So, two or three nights a week all summer long, I walked to work, put in my four-hour shift and walked home again with sore feet, usually crying because I hated that job so much.  I will say this.  To this day I'm thankful my father wouldn't let me quit.  He instilled in me that no matter how bad or menial the job we are asked to do, we should tackle it to the best of our ability and be thankful we have a job.  Thank you, dad.  Because of you, I'm proud to have excellent work ethics today.
So, I ask you.  What was your worst summer job?  Was it as bad as mine?