My job sucked the most!!
For the summer, I washed dishes in the -tiny- town of Duck Creek, Utah.
The restraunt, "The Eagles Nest" was one of the most unsanitary places in the world.
On my first day, this guy showed me the basics, and then I took it from there.
Well, there wasn't any soap... and like... there wasn't from day one.
So about two months later, a cook comes back to me and is like "You haven't been using soap to clean the dishes in the past two months.... *******."
However, nothing was done about it.
Then they hired a new cook, after the head one WALKED OUT one morning, leaving this teenage girl to run the entire restraunt by herself.... [edit] and our other chef had his car break down in California, and our waiter was also missing for some unkown reason. Mass chaos ensued.
Ah, I also had to exterminate of a mouse once. It was caught in a giant pot. Heh, I then cleaned the pot... but alas, no soap. [and the water was ice cold]
Then later some new cook came, and he was a fat New Yorker with a Turkish assistant that spoke almost no English. Muhmet was always getting in trouble for not wearing a hairnet, because he had long black hair that would fall out from time to time.
They would often have me do the dirty work, like cleaning out the never-been-cleaned meat refrigerators and stuff.
This one night, being the worst, I had a CRAPLOAD of dishes, like, 7-ish of the clear the table bins... oh, and the door had to be kept open because the kitchen was tiny and the cooks were burning up. This was bad for me, because it was flippin' snowing outside. And I had a fan blowing on me, since the only spot for a fan in the whole back kitchen was in front of me, then the window was open, and I was constantly getting splashed with cold water.
Cold water... I was always cold and wet, that's because the water heater sucked, and I only had warm water to wash the dishes with about the first 20 minutes of the day.
I really hated that job...
There was also the day the dish-washing-machine broke, and the day the bikers came... but heh, I don't want to talk about those.
[edit] One day the big black cook put some bread in the microwave, and then accidently hit 60 minutes instead of 60 seconds.
So smoke started seeping out of the microwave at me, and I went over and hit the button. The door swung open and the dish-washing area was filled with smoke. I had to struggle to get the window open and get out of there, and nearly suffocated. (the kitchen was tiny)
The manager guy (that walked out on the teenage girl) said "I saw the window fly open, a bunch of smoke come out, and then you came staggering out of the back door hacking and weezing."
Oh, and the back door was nice, too. It was an unstable wooden walkway, about 3 feet below the restraunt. So... it was a nice jump down. Heh, it was always covered in greese, too. It was very dangerous to go out the back door.
[edit edit]
They also opened a bar up in a building behind the restraunt, so I then had to wash all the bar glasses that came back to me. This was a huge pain in the but, because it took up all my room. Did I mention this was a tiny kitchen? I swear, Japanese kitchens must have been bigger than the area I had to work in. So... I'd have a ton of beer mugs and wine glasses stacked up in my way, but I couldn't take them out because I wasn't allowed to go into the bar. I wasn't old enough. So... this guy would randomly come back and take them off my hands from time to time, but he was so inconsistent that I would often have beer mugs in my road all day.