had many jobs, the longest one; teaching art for twenty years. The shortest, while I was an art student, took a job in a clothing factory. Found I could not manage to control the machines which went as fast as sports cars. All the other women there seemed to have no trouble, could even chat while working. Imagine clothing with the sewing running everywhere except along the seams. So they transferred me to the ironing. But one out of every three pairs of trousers had something seriously wrong with the sewing, things like two legs of the trousers wrinkled up into the cotch, or the zipper sewed to the pocket. When I took the unwearables into the office to show the manager, she said, "Don't worry, put them on the wrack anyway. The number of items is all that counts. They don't check." When I said I didn't feel OK with that, I was transferred to cleaning up and making tea. At the end of the day, I thanked them for the opportunity and said that I felt I was not suitable for the job, and they agreed.
This post was edited by Benedict Arnold at December 11, 2016 10:35 PM MST
Benedict Arnold 