Ads like that don’t work. When I was in the concrete biz my boss used write ads like that but it made no difference. He’d have to interview 5-10 to get one (barely) acceptable guy and he’d have to hire five to end up with one keeper. The vast majority of them were unbelievable dumbasses.
I could tell you endless stories of the morons that we had to shit-can. We had to fire one guy before the first concrete truck even arrived. The guy with tourettes was funny while he lasted.
ThePessimisticChemist
April 1, 2016 5:02 pm
I was 17 and got hired laying brick pavers and building fence. I was originally hired to work in the company store (stocking shelves) but I was bigger than average, so a random foreman was walking by me first thing in the morning and said “you speak English and I need help, you’re coming with me.”
He outranked my boss, so for the next 2 days I did as was told and worked my ass off. I had been a farm boy so I was fairly sturdy and used to “working as told” so we got along well. That guy worked me harder than I ever had before in my life. I never bitched, even if it was swinging a rock bar for 6 straight hours.
During that summer every other white boy hired on quit due to the work load. I don’t know why, working like that in your early 20s is great because you get a tan, get muscles, and get a paincheck.
Fuck, at that age you don’t need anything else to chase the things that really matter (booze and women.)
Rose
April 1, 2016 5:17 pm
Sounds like they’ve been hiring the same people we’ve had at the farm, LOL.
They can’t work a full 8 hour day, their girlfriends show up at work to fight with them, they want umpteen smoke breaks, they take Monday off (and sometimes Tuesday too) after a pay Friday, they disappear after lunch, they come to work hung over or high, they are endlessly needed at court over BS traffic tickets and child custody cases, it just NEVER stops. It is always something, riding herd on them is exhausting.
Can’t wait until robots can do their work, we’ll never hire another one of them again.
Undaunted
April 1, 2016 6:54 pm
Working on farms, walking beans, detasseling corn, excluded, I had three paper routes during my later elementary school years. One morning paper, one afternoon paper and also a Grit newspaper route that I delivered to mostly old people. I had a Schwinn 5-speed bike (with dual rear-mounted baskets) that got a lot of use.
The Grit people were the most interesting. A lot of old ladies who loved the content and thought I was the cutest little red-haired boy ever. One old lady had a pet monkey (the only one I had ever seen outside of a zoo), that would climb up my jeans and onto my shoulders as she was writing me checks. Her house totally smelled like monkey shit, constantly. It’s funny how you never forget these things.
Anyway, the summer before 9th grade, I applied to a family owned grocery store. The owner WOULD NOT hire me no matter how persistent I was. I went back every week. “Hi Bill, any openings yet? “ “No, keep checking back” . “OK, I will.” He had two beautiful daughters – one a year older than me and one a year younger. He always hired family or his daughter’s boyfriends. But not me.
Finally, one of my friends, who just broke up with the owner’s older daughter, quit and told me. I ran out there and said: “Dave, I know Brad quit, NOW are there any openings?”. He put his head on his desk and said: “Fine! Come back on Monday”. I worked there all through high school as well as the summers of my freshman and sophomore years in college.
At first, I sacked groceries and carried them out to folk’s cars (back when that was the rule of the day). I also processed recycled cans and bottles. The cans were processed in the basement by the furnace where it was constantly 85 degrees+ and where I spent many a nights drenched with sweat. A lot of people back then would spit their chewing tobacco in the cans and my hands and shirt were constantly douched by brown nicotine-infused saliva. Then, when I was done with the cans, I got to process the bottles outside on a back loading dock where, in the winter, it could be minus 20 degrees. Lucky me.
In any case, I worked hard. In return, the owner would let me work around my high school wrestling schedule and it all worked out fine. Soon, I was able to run the cash registers. Then, when the owner put in a deli, it took six of us to run it at first. In two months, I was running it along with only one other lady who made the salads, deserts, etc. I was constantly cleaning, processing, etc and cooked all of the “Flavor Crisp” chicken in a deep fat fryer and emptied the grease every day. I still have the scars on my arms.
After a while, I was waxing and buffing the floors sometimes until 4 AM . In high school, I never got to go to many football or basketball games. I could probably count the times I did on one hand.
When I started, I was making around $2 an hour and when I left I was making around $3.
Later, when I had kids, I always told them to: “Make a friend of work. If you do, you will always have money”.
It worked for me through the years and it seems to be working for them today.
Undaunted
April 1, 2016 7:07 pm
Also – another thing I always told my kids about being a good worker is this: “Pay attention always and do what is needed next, in order”.
Also – do WINN ( What Is Needed Now).
On another note: Thanks for the Maple Syrup, Hardscrabble! Wood shavings for packaging material. Genuis! I’m making french toast tomorrow morning! 🙂
Undaunted
April 1, 2016 7:24 pm
And, a final note to HSF: I now understand better your trip(s) to the mill as mentioned in one of your previous essays. Call me a simple dude, but I love the smell of woodshavings. It smells like a forest. I plan to use it all in making “firestarters” for my fire pit this summer and fireplace for next winter. Also can’t wait to try the syrup tomorrow. Will send the check out to you on Monday if not before. Thanks again.
Orders can be placed by email at [email protected] or you can speak directly with the hardscrabble farmer himself by calling 603-748-6917 or drop us a card or letter @
Hopewell Farms
3 South Road
Newbury, NH 03255
cynic
April 1, 2016 7:53 pm
I actually have to go to a meeting on how to hire and retain millenials .
Um , wtf
wip
April 1, 2016 8:18 pm
Admin
Thanks, I’m surprised I hadn’t thought of it before.
starfcker
April 2, 2016 1:07 am
Chemist, you hit the nail on the head, “get a tan, get muscles, get a paycheck, what else do you need at that age.” Construction was always my friend. Plus you always have that how to do it knowledge for the rest of your life. Knowing how a building is put together, top to bottom, should be a chapter in getting your man card punched. I was headed to lunch a couple of weeks ago during spring break, and I had one my friends kids in the truck, and I got a flat. I got out, put on the gloves, and changed the tire in less than ten minutes. The kid was SO impressed, I talked to his dad later. He said all the kid had ever seen him do was call triple A. He realized he needed to show his kid that kind of simple can do stuff. Eye opening for both of us.
wip
April 2, 2016 12:20 pm
In order for my GIRLS to be approved to drive any of the family cars, the had to demonstrate changing a tire and jump starting a car. NOT verbally but physically demonstrate.
No special snowflakes need apply.
Awesome.
Ads like that don’t work. When I was in the concrete biz my boss used write ads like that but it made no difference. He’d have to interview 5-10 to get one (barely) acceptable guy and he’d have to hire five to end up with one keeper. The vast majority of them were unbelievable dumbasses.
I could tell you endless stories of the morons that we had to shit-can. We had to fire one guy before the first concrete truck even arrived. The guy with tourettes was funny while he lasted.
I was 17 and got hired laying brick pavers and building fence. I was originally hired to work in the company store (stocking shelves) but I was bigger than average, so a random foreman was walking by me first thing in the morning and said “you speak English and I need help, you’re coming with me.”
He outranked my boss, so for the next 2 days I did as was told and worked my ass off. I had been a farm boy so I was fairly sturdy and used to “working as told” so we got along well. That guy worked me harder than I ever had before in my life. I never bitched, even if it was swinging a rock bar for 6 straight hours.
During that summer every other white boy hired on quit due to the work load. I don’t know why, working like that in your early 20s is great because you get a tan, get muscles, and get a paincheck.
Fuck, at that age you don’t need anything else to chase the things that really matter (booze and women.)
Sounds like they’ve been hiring the same people we’ve had at the farm, LOL.
They can’t work a full 8 hour day, their girlfriends show up at work to fight with them, they want umpteen smoke breaks, they take Monday off (and sometimes Tuesday too) after a pay Friday, they disappear after lunch, they come to work hung over or high, they are endlessly needed at court over BS traffic tickets and child custody cases, it just NEVER stops. It is always something, riding herd on them is exhausting.
Can’t wait until robots can do their work, we’ll never hire another one of them again.
Working on farms, walking beans, detasseling corn, excluded, I had three paper routes during my later elementary school years. One morning paper, one afternoon paper and also a Grit newspaper route that I delivered to mostly old people. I had a Schwinn 5-speed bike (with dual rear-mounted baskets) that got a lot of use.
The Grit people were the most interesting. A lot of old ladies who loved the content and thought I was the cutest little red-haired boy ever. One old lady had a pet monkey (the only one I had ever seen outside of a zoo), that would climb up my jeans and onto my shoulders as she was writing me checks. Her house totally smelled like monkey shit, constantly. It’s funny how you never forget these things.
Anyway, the summer before 9th grade, I applied to a family owned grocery store. The owner WOULD NOT hire me no matter how persistent I was. I went back every week. “Hi Bill, any openings yet? “ “No, keep checking back” . “OK, I will.” He had two beautiful daughters – one a year older than me and one a year younger. He always hired family or his daughter’s boyfriends. But not me.
Finally, one of my friends, who just broke up with the owner’s older daughter, quit and told me. I ran out there and said: “Dave, I know Brad quit, NOW are there any openings?”. He put his head on his desk and said: “Fine! Come back on Monday”. I worked there all through high school as well as the summers of my freshman and sophomore years in college.
At first, I sacked groceries and carried them out to folk’s cars (back when that was the rule of the day). I also processed recycled cans and bottles. The cans were processed in the basement by the furnace where it was constantly 85 degrees+ and where I spent many a nights drenched with sweat. A lot of people back then would spit their chewing tobacco in the cans and my hands and shirt were constantly douched by brown nicotine-infused saliva. Then, when I was done with the cans, I got to process the bottles outside on a back loading dock where, in the winter, it could be minus 20 degrees. Lucky me.
In any case, I worked hard. In return, the owner would let me work around my high school wrestling schedule and it all worked out fine. Soon, I was able to run the cash registers. Then, when the owner put in a deli, it took six of us to run it at first. In two months, I was running it along with only one other lady who made the salads, deserts, etc. I was constantly cleaning, processing, etc and cooked all of the “Flavor Crisp” chicken in a deep fat fryer and emptied the grease every day. I still have the scars on my arms.
After a while, I was waxing and buffing the floors sometimes until 4 AM . In high school, I never got to go to many football or basketball games. I could probably count the times I did on one hand.
When I started, I was making around $2 an hour and when I left I was making around $3.
Later, when I had kids, I always told them to: “Make a friend of work. If you do, you will always have money”.
It worked for me through the years and it seems to be working for them today.
Also – another thing I always told my kids about being a good worker is this: “Pay attention always and do what is needed next, in order”.
Also – do WINN ( What Is Needed Now).
On another note: Thanks for the Maple Syrup, Hardscrabble! Wood shavings for packaging material. Genuis! I’m making french toast tomorrow morning! 🙂
And, a final note to HSF: I now understand better your trip(s) to the mill as mentioned in one of your previous essays. Call me a simple dude, but I love the smell of woodshavings. It smells like a forest. I plan to use it all in making “firestarters” for my fire pit this summer and fireplace for next winter. Also can’t wait to try the syrup tomorrow. Will send the check out to you on Monday if not before. Thanks again.
@Hardscrabble
Where do I purchase some of your maple syrup?
Wip
Orders can be placed by email at [email protected] or you can speak directly with the hardscrabble farmer himself by calling 603-748-6917 or drop us a card or letter @
Hopewell Farms
3 South Road
Newbury, NH 03255
I actually have to go to a meeting on how to hire and retain millenials .
Um , wtf
Admin
Thanks, I’m surprised I hadn’t thought of it before.
Chemist, you hit the nail on the head, “get a tan, get muscles, get a paycheck, what else do you need at that age.” Construction was always my friend. Plus you always have that how to do it knowledge for the rest of your life. Knowing how a building is put together, top to bottom, should be a chapter in getting your man card punched. I was headed to lunch a couple of weeks ago during spring break, and I had one my friends kids in the truck, and I got a flat. I got out, put on the gloves, and changed the tire in less than ten minutes. The kid was SO impressed, I talked to his dad later. He said all the kid had ever seen him do was call triple A. He realized he needed to show his kid that kind of simple can do stuff. Eye opening for both of us.
In order for my GIRLS to be approved to drive any of the family cars, the had to demonstrate changing a tire and jump starting a car. NOT verbally but physically demonstrate.