# Before I was an engineer



## Fudgey (Jan 24, 2007)

So I figure everyone must have had a couple of jobs before getting into the engineering world. Even if it was just a college job. I bet it would be fun for people to post about what they did. Here is one of mine from a college summer job.

A couple of years ago I was working painting houses in the summers. I was on a crew and everything, but as this story begins they were off prepping another location while I was putting the finishing touches on a job. The work was down in a basement, and the woman of the house was home. And man, when I tell you I had to take a shit, I mean, I had to take a shit.  I was certainly prairie dogging it at that point. And a few minutes before that, I had squeezed off a fart so smelly it was like I was working at a sulfur factory. My innards were irate. So I knew something on deck was ready to kill.

I was also quite certain it was going to be one of those burning ass shits -- one that burns your hole on the way out and makes you question even using toilet paper afterwards. I mean, it feels like your bunghole is so hot that you're going to set fire to the asswipe if it even gets inches near your cornhole. I've heard this phenomenon called ring-sting before and yes it does sting like the dickens.

So I really had to take a dump. Now, normally when I'm at someone's house, I'll just use their toilet, no problem. But I knew the smell of this would be horrid, and there was no bathroom down there in that basement. The woman of the house was indeed home (she was upstairs) but to that point hadn't been very accommodating to the crew of painters. She was an older woman, and you could tell she was a bit wary of having us working in her home. It was clear she wanted to keep us in the basement and away from her good things.

So I was almost finished with the job, and I had this empty five gallon bucket. You know, the type of bucket that makes a good seat when you flip it over. Since I was almost done with the pulling all the tape off the walls, I figured I could just use that.

Now I just needed something to wipe with. I had a couple of old rags on hand I could use. I got those together with the bucket and headed into the closet under the basement stairs. I set up shop in there, and I hovered over the bucket, and I started my business.

And just as I started just as the first piece of hot (and I do mean hot) dung was leaving my buttocks, the woman called down to me. "I'm bringing down some lemonade!" she said.

Now, mind you, I have zero business being in this closet. I have even less business being in that closet with my pants down at my ankles, and even less business than that being in that closet filling a five-gallon bucket with my excrement. And she's on her way down?!

"Uh, just leave it on the, leave it up - uh, I'll get it later! No thanks!" I said franticly, spouting gibberish as I tried to cut my hot shit short. The burning of my asshole rivaled that of a hot cattle branding iron being shoved up my ass. I heard her foot hit the top stair, and then the next stair, and the sounds were right over the closet, meaning she was right over me! I painfully pinched and pulled my pants up, no doubt getting crap everywhere, thinking to myself, "Oh god, let me get away with this. Let me get away with this."

That's when the smell hit me. My god, the smell! I realized in that increasingly small amount of time I had that I must keep her away from the closet -- I had to intercept her at the bottom of the stairs before the smell did. There would be no way she wouldn't figure out what I was up to if she caught wind of the brown sculpting clay I left in the bucket.

I got my pants up in record time, and I got out of the closet okay, but in order not to make noise, I had to leave the closet door open a bit. I could barely walk with the ring-sting burning my brown-eye. Oh god, did it ever hurt. I think I got to the bottom of the stairs before the stink did. I met her there and said, "Thanks for the drink, but that I'm almost done. I'll bring the glass back up in a second. I'll only be a few more minutes. I'll be right up." I tried to say anything I could think of to get her back upstairs before the smell hit her.

Finally she turned around and headed up the stairs. But all I could smell was shit, and maybe she smelled it as well and that's why she was heading upstairs. I'll never truly know. Regardless, I had some precious time to work with, and the evidence needed to be disposed of.

I got back to my newly formed shit closet and finished up my work. I still had some in there that needed to be let loose. And the sting was almost unbearable. I had to suppress the urge to whimper. And when I turned around to look, I realized I had made quite a mess of things in that bucket. I really needed a power washer, and a radioactive suit or something. The smell nearly made me gag.

I did a quick job on myself with the rags I had and dumped them in the bucket, along with the underwear I had indeed ruined while having to cut myself off. I then ran that bucket outside through the basement door and into the back of the truck. I finished the rest of the job downstairs in record time, called her down there, got my check, and God dammit, I got out of there. I drove away knowing that I hit that bucket with everything I had, and that I really got away with one. Had she decided to investigate any further at all, there simply would've been no explaining a five gallon bucket of feces in her closet.


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## DVINNY (Jan 24, 2007)

Hmmmmmm. After that, my story sucks.


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## RIP - VTEnviro (Jan 24, 2007)

And I thought my story of fumigating the chem lab with butyric acid as an undergrad assistant was bad.


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## Bigwolf (Jan 24, 2007)

Yeah, I'm not even going to try and compete with fudgey's story.


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## Bigwolf (Jan 24, 2007)

But I will say that I used to work at Target during the high school years and the dumbest customer I ever met was the one who walked up to me, with a combination lock in hand, and asked me how she was suppose to figure out the combination.

I kindly replied, "You have to guess it"


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## Bigwolf (Jan 24, 2007)

This one is for you fudgey!


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## Guest (Jan 24, 2007)

Bigwolf said:


> This one is for you fudgey!









Nice work!!

JR


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## Tina (Jan 24, 2007)

OMG that was the best story I've read in a while. I can just picture it all in my mind. Nothing better than a job well done. :joke:


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## Dleg (Jan 24, 2007)

Bravo, Fudgey!

Bigwolf: I used to work at Target, too. I was a "cart attendant" for almost 2 years in high school, before a friend got me a job in the auto shop (back when Target still serviced cars). I had absolutely no business being there - I knew nothing about working on cars at the time - and my first day there I was told to "go put the wheels back on that custom van!" I grabbed the air wrench, and then started looking at the lugnuts. I honestly did not know which way they were supposed to go on - the flat side first, or the conical side. So I took a guess (a bad one) and mounted the wheels back on the van with the flat side of the lugnuts up against the guy's new mag wheels. I can only imagine how bumpy that guy's ride home was. I finally gave up on that job after mounting my arm in a tire. I don't think they were sorry to see me go.


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## Dark Knight (Jan 24, 2007)

I am speechless....





I can imagine Fudgey's face while the lady was coming downstairs


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## Bigwolf (Jan 24, 2007)

Dleg said:


> lease: Bravo, Fudgey!
> Bigwolf: I used to work at Target, too. I was a "cart attendant" for almost 2 years in high school, before a friend got me a job in the auto shop (back when Target still serviced cars). I had absolutely no business being there - I knew nothing about working on cars at the time - and my first day there I was told to "go put the wheels back on that custom van!" I grabbed the air wrench, and then started looking at the lugnuts. I honestly did not know which way they were supposed to go on - the flat side first, or the conical side. So I took a guess (a bad one) and mounted the wheels back on the van with the flat side of the lugnuts up against the guy's new mag wheels. I can only imagine how bumpy that guy's ride home was. I finally gave up on that job after mounting my arm in a tire. I don't think they were sorry to see me go.



That is really funny! I remember when I quit, it was the beginning of summer vacation from college and they couldn't give me enough hours to work and so I had to go find a different job that could guarentee 40 hour weeks. The team leader person got really upset with me and said it was the worst decision I would ever make and that I would regret it and be sorry. I think its funny that I was in college studying for my engineering degree and this idiot had the impression that I would always stay at target.....where's the WTF smiley when you need it?

Anywho, now I'm doing what I love and making some change doing it.....that is the way to live!!!!! hmy:

:joke:

:multiplespotting:

And now, if we could just get some damn results from California, we would be in business!


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## Bigwolf (Jan 24, 2007)

:joke: lease: hmy: :multiplespotting: :waitwall:


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## frazil (Jan 24, 2007)

That's some funny shit.


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## Guest (Jan 24, 2007)

Bigwolf said:


> .....where's the WTF smiley when you need it?


Ask and you shall receive ......






JR


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## mizzoueng (Jan 24, 2007)

For the love of Christ, that was funny!

I'm pretty sure there isn't one that can beat that. I have two, but not near as good.

#1

I was 14 working for a truss building company. I was the youngest guy there by 10 years I think. The second youngest was 25 and this guy was nuts, drank beer like it was water, etc. I worked for the summer and got to know them, came back in the winter and it was one of those winters that when you throw coffee it freezes mid-air. This nut job gets the idea to see what happens if he takes a massive dump from the upper truss of the shop during this cold day. He thought it would feeze midair and land as a large poop-sicle. So the guys lift him up there, mind you its 60+ foot to this truss, with a fork truck. He proceeds to drop trow and startto squeeze one out, he gets half a log out and the owner and client walk into the shop to get a tour. By the time jacka$$ notices and the owner realizes what is going on, the log has slipped and falls to the ground. Now we know that coffee freezes because the density of coffee when thrown in the air drops and can freeze quickly. Back to the turd, stunned, everyone just watches it fall as a log and proceed to splatter like a $hit bomb upon contact with the floor. The crew begins laughing hysterically while the owner drags the client out of the shop while screaming "YOU'RE FIRED!" to the nut job. I was not there for this event, but I was told this by the owner as an "example of behavior that is not acceptable here".

#2

I was 19 and working as a pipefitter apprentice. Now I was not actually in the Union, but my Dad is and they called on me when they needed Seasonal help that had half a brain. I got pulled from wrench duty on a natural gas peaking unit to be the head welder on the job, they gave me a kid (he was actually 3 months older) who was a pre-apprentice to be my helper. I am welding 16" schedule 80 tar lined pipe, triple passes. An old journeyman came by and noticed I was low on P+++++ rods, now he knows what I need but tells this kid to go get me P++++ rods, notice the difference? There are only 4 +'s there. This kid runs to the storage shed and is gone for like an hour. By this time I found the old hand and he told me what he did, half laughing and half pissed I had no help, I tracked down this kid who had found the P5 rods, but was getting ready to as the owner rep if he knew where he could find P4 rods. Luckily I stopped him and told him the truth.

Now 2 weeks later we were done welding and got put on nat gas piping duty. We were putting valve assemblies in a line and noticed that we were missing an actuated plug valve. The old hand comes by again and tells the kid to go get him a "Neutanator valve". I laugh, so does the kid. But he runs off, I'm thinking to find the foreman and tell him we are missing th plug valve from the kit we got from the supply house. No, this kid looks for a Neutnator valve for 2 hours. Somewhere along the line someone tells this kid the expensive valves are in the "big trailer". This is the owners trailer, he goes in there asking for the valve and the engineers in there look at him like he's an idiot. But this kid was so adament that there was such a valve that he gave a description to them, now after a little bit these guys thought maybe they were wrong and forgot that is was in there. So they look around for an hour trying to find this valve. They get frustrated and call the Owners Project Engineer, he tells them they are dumb %$*&amp;s and that there is no such thing. The PE calls the contractor and tells him what this kid was doing. Needless to say he was gone the next day.


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## DVINNY (Jan 24, 2007)

mizzou, that is some funny shiat


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## Dleg (Jan 24, 2007)

mizzou, I loved story #1 -  Story #2 was good too.


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## TouchDown (Jan 24, 2007)

Fudgey - you should write stories, you definately have the ability to set a scene... thanks, really...

My background, not as funny, but matches much of what I'm sure most of you had to put up with...

I worked for a roofing contractor out of high school before college, hot tarring roofs - nothing like blowing black snot out of your nose every night, wonder how many years that took off my ticker.

Then my Freshman summer, I worked concrete construction with a bunch of guys that had to have been in their 50's and skin that looked like leather. Needless to say, I got straight A's that next semester, since I didn't want to be doing hard physical labor in my 50's like these guys.

Then I worked as a summer grunt at my brother's work. He lives up near Brekenridge Colo, as an electrical lineman. I was a summer grunt that would dig up faults in the distribution lines. Does anyone want to know why they call those mountains the ROCKIES???

Then I had an internship with a Nuclear power plant.

Then I worked as another grunt for USDA mowing weeds (relatively easy work for $16/hr)... I actually worked for my future father in law, without knowing it. I hadn't met his daughter yet. Then later that year after going back to school, I met his daughter and we started dating, then I met him a few months later. weird.


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## DVINNY (Jan 25, 2007)

I worked at Fed-Ex thru 1.5 yrs at school loading and unloading trucks, and I worked the door at a bar in our college town.

Summers:

1 year as a painter with a commercial painting company

1 at a Paper Mill (P.H.Glatfelter in Spring Grove PA)

1 at the FBI (even had full security clearance)

1 with my Father-in-laws contracting business (He made me run air drills and jackhammers all damn day)


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## Hill William (Jan 25, 2007)

I was a waiter through high school and college. I never shit anywhere that I wasn't supposed to but I did accidentally drop a plate on a toddler's head one time. I never personally messed with anybody's food but I saw it happen a few times. If you have ever seen that movie "Waiting", its hilarious to me because it is a lot closer to the real thing than what you might think.


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## roadwreck (Jan 25, 2007)

This story is not mine, but this thread reminded me of it.

Enjoy!

The infamous Ryan’s Steakhouse episode.

A couple of years ago we decided to cruise out to Ryan's Steakhouse for dinner. It was a Wednesday night, which means that macaroni and beef was on the hot bar, indeed the only night of the week that it is served.

Wednesday night is also kid's night at Ryan's, complete with Dizzy the Clown wandering from table to table entertaining the little bastards. It may seem that the events about to be told have little connection to those two circumstances, but all will be clear in a moment.

We went through the line and placed our orders for the all-you-can-eat hot bar then sat down as far away from the front of the restaurant as possible in order to keep the density of kids down a bit. Then I started my move to the hot bar.

Plate after plate of macaroni and beef were consumed that evening, I tell you-in all, four heaping plates of the pseudo-Italian ambrosia were shoved into my belly. I was sated. Perhaps a bit too much, however. I had not really been feeling well all day, what with a bit of gas and such.

By the time I had eaten four overwhelmed plates of food I was in real trouble. There was so much pressure on my diaphragm that I was having trouble breathing. At the same time, the downward pressure was building. At first, I thought it was only gas, which could have been passed in batches right at the table without too much concern. Unfortunately, that was not to be. After a minute or so it was clear that I was dealing with explosive diarrhea. It's amazing how grease can make its way through your intestines far faster than the food, which spawned the grease to begin with, but I digress...

I got up from the table and made my way to the bathroom. Upon entering, I saw two sinks immediately inside the door, two urinals just to the right of the sinks, and two toilet stalls against the back wall. One of them was a handicapped bathroom. Now, normally I would have gone to the handicapped stall since I like to stretch out a bit when I take a good dump, but in this case, the door lock was broken and the only thing I hate worse than SWMBO telling me to stop cutting my toenails with a pair of diagonal wire cutters is having someone walk in on me while I am taking a freaking dump. I went to the normal stall.

In retrospect, I probably should have gone to the large, handicapped stall even though the door would not lock because that bit of time lost in making the stall switch proved to be a bit too long under the circumstances. By the time I had walked into the regular stall, the pressure on my a-hole was reaching Biblical proportions. I began "The Move."

For those women who may be reading this, let me take a moment to explain "The Move." Men know exactly what their bowels are up to at any given second. And when the time comes to empty the cache, a sequence of physiological events occur that cannot be stopped under any circumstances. There is a move men make that involves simultaneously approaching the toilet, beginning the body turn to position ones butt toward said toilet, hooking ones fingers into ones waistline, and pulling down the pants while beginning the squat at the same time. It is a very fluid motion that, when performed properly, results in the flawless expulsion of freaking mud at the exact same second that ones a-hole is properly placed on the freaking toilet seat. Done properly, it even assures that the choad is properly inserted into the front rim of the toilet in the event that the pee stream lets loose at the same time; it is truly a picture of coordination rivaling that of a skilled ballet dancer.

I was about halfway into "The Move" when I looked down at the floor and saw a pile of vomit that had been previously expelled by one of those little bastards attending kids night; it was mounded up in the corner so I did not notice it when I had first walked into the stall. Normally, such a thing would not have bothered me, but I had eaten so much and the pressure upward was so intense, that I hit a rarely experienced gag reflex. And once that reflex started, combined with the intense pressure upward caused by the bloated stomach, four plates of macaroni and beef started coming up for a rematch.

What happened next was so quick that the exact sequence of events is a bit fuzzy, but I will try to reconstruct them as best I can. In that moment of impending projectile vomiting, my attention was diverted from the goings-on at the other end. To put a freeze frame on the situation, I was half crouched down to the toilet, pants pulled down to my knees, with a load of vomit coming up my esophagus. Now, most of you know that vomiting takes precedence over a freaking dump no matter what is about to come slamming out of your backdoor. It is apparently an evolutionary thing since pooping will not kill you, but vomiting takes a presence of mind to accomplish so that you do not aspirate any food into the bronchial tubes and perhaps choke to death.

My attention was thus diverted. At that very split second, my a-hole exploded in what can only be described as a wake...you know, as in a newspaper headline along the lines of "30,000 Killed In Wake of Typhoon Fifi" or something similar.

In what seemed to be most suitably measured in cubic feet, an enormous plug of poo the consistency of thick mud with embedded pockets of greasy liquid came flying out of my rear. But remember, I was only half-way down on the toilet at that moment. The poo wave was of such force and of just such an angle in relation to the back curve of the toilet seat that it ricocheted off the back of the seat and slammed into the wall at an angle of incidence equal to the angle at which it initially hit the toilet seat.

Then I sat down. Recall that when that event occurred, I was already halfway to sitting anyway and had actually reached the point of no return. I have always considered myself as relatively stable gravitationally, but when you get beyond a certain point, you're going down no matter how limber you may be.

Needless to say, the poo wave completely glanced off the toilet seat and deposit itself on the walls, unlike what you would see when hitting a puddle with a high-pressure water hose; even though you throw water at the puddle, the puddle gets moved and no water is left to re-form a puddle. There was a significant amount of poo remaining on about one-third of the seat rim which I had now just collapsed upon.

Now, back to the vomit...

While all the pooping was going on, the vomit was still on its way up. By the time I had actually collapsed on the toilet, my mouth had filled up with a goodly portion of the macaroni and beef I had just consumed.

OK, so what does the human body instinctively do when vomiting? One bends over. So I bent over. I was still sitting on the toilet, though. Therefore, bending over resulted in me placing my head above my now slightly opened legs, positioned in between my knees and waist. Also, directly above my pants which were now pulled down to a point just midway between my knees and my ankles.

Oh, did I mention that I was wearing not just pants, but sweat pants with elastic on the ankles.

In one mighty push, some three pounds of macaroni and beef, two or three Cokes, and a couple of Big, Fat Yeast Rolls were deposited in my pants...on the inside...with no ready exit at the bottom down by my feet. In the next several seconds, there were a handful of farts, a couple of turds, and the event ended, yet I was now sitting there with my pants full of vomit, my back covered in poo that had bounced off the toilet, spattered on three ceramic-tiled walls to a height of about five feet, and still had enough force to come back at me, covering the back of my shirt with droplets of liquid poo.

All while thick poo was spread all over my a-hole in a ring curiously in the shape of a toilet seat. And there was no damn toilet paper!

What could I do but laugh. I must have sounded like a complete maniac to the guy who then wandered into the bathroom. He actually asked if I was OK since I was laughing so hard I must have sounded like I was crying hysterically. I calmed down just enough to ask him if he would get the manager. And told him to have the manager bring some toilet paper.

When the manager walked in, he brought the toilet paper with him, but in no way was prepared for what happened next. I simply told him that there was no way I was going to explain what was happening in the stall, but that I needed several wet towels and I needed him to go ask SWMBO to come help me. I told him where we were sitting and he left. At that point, I think he was probably assuming that I had peed just a bit in my pants or something similarly benign.

About two minutes later, SWMBO came into the bathroom not knowing what was wrong and with a certain amount of worry in her voice. I explained to her (still laughing and having trouble getting out words) that I had a slight accident and needed her help.

Knowing that I had experienced some close calls in the past, she probably assumed that I had laid down a small turd or something and just needed to bring the car around so we could bolt immediately. Until I asked her, I'm sure she had no idea that she was about to go across the street and purchase me new underwear, new socks, new pants, a new shirt, and (by that time due to considerable leakage around the elastic ankles thingies) new sneakers.

And she then started to laugh herself since I was still laughing. She began to ask for an explanation as to what had happened when I promised her that I would tell her later, but that I just needed to handle damage control for the time being. She left.

The manager then came back in with a half-dozen wet towels and a few dry ones. I asked him to also bring a mop and bucket upon which he assured me that they would clean up anything that needed to be cleaned.

Without giving him specific details, I explained that what was going on in that stall that night was far in excess of what I would expect anyone to deal with, what with most of the folks working at Ryan's making minimum wage of just slightly above. At that moment, I think it dawned on him exactly the gravity of the situation. Then that manager went so far above the call of duty that I will be eternally grateful for his actions. He hooked up a hose.

Fortunately, commercial bathrooms are constructed with tile walls and tile floors and have a drain in the middle of the room in order to make clean up easy. Fortunately, I was in a commercial bathroom. He hooked up the hose to the spigot located under the sink as I began cleaning myself up with the wet towels.

Just as I was finishing, SWMBO got back with the new clothes and passed them into the stall, whereupon I stuffed the previously worn clothing into the plastic bag that came from the store, handing the bag to SWMBO.

I finished cleaning myself off and carefully put on my new clothes, still stuck in the stall since I figured that it would be in bad taste to go out of the stall to get redressed in the event I happened to be standing there naked and some little @#%$ kid walked in. At that point, I had only made a mess; I had not yet committed a felony and intended to keep it that way.

When I finished getting dressed, I picked up the hose and cleaned up the entire stall, washing down the remains toward the drain in the center of the room. I put down the hose and walked out of the bathroom.

I had intended to go to the manager and thank him for all he had done, but when I walked out, three of the management staff was there to greet me with a standing ovation. I started laughing so hard that I thought I was going to throw up again, but managed to scurry out to the car where SWMBO was now waiting to pick me up by the front door.

The upshot of all this is that I strongly recommend eating dinner at Ryan's Steak House. They have, by far, the nicest management staff of any restaurant in which I have eaten.


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## petergibbons (Jan 25, 2007)

Wow Fudgey! I want to nominate you for a Nobel Prize in shit stories!! :210:


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## DVINNY (Jan 25, 2007)

WOW. What a read!


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## frazil (Jan 25, 2007)

I made the fatal mistake of taking a sip of coffee half way through that story...


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## Dark Knight (Jan 25, 2007)

Why always the conversation among working people ends in these kind of things?

By the way...I almost had an accident like yours while reading the story RWreck. :210:


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## singlespeed (Jan 25, 2007)

Oh Fudgey, that was hysterical :210:


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## Bigwolf (Jan 25, 2007)

jregieng said:


> Ask and you shall receive ......
> 
> 
> 
> ...



Nice work JR! :210:


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## jfusilloPE (Jan 25, 2007)

I think that is the most I've ever seen fudgey type ever....good work!


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## TouchDown (Jan 25, 2007)

> "The Move."


RW - everyone was looking at me as I laughed out loud in our little prarie dog complex. Fricken hilarious.


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## mizzoueng (Jan 25, 2007)

Jesus, I had to stop reading 2 or 3 times because of the laughter. I am going to read this at home tonight to get the full effect.


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## Wolverine (Jan 25, 2007)

Has anyone reached the age yet where potty humor isn't funny? It's still going pretty strong for me (ROTFL-LMAO-ASMP). Maybe I'll grow up after 40 or something but for now, anything involving poo and/or bad smells is still funny.

While maintaining my dignity by withholding my own tale(s), I will say that we were sitting around trading stories one day when a fellow I know relayed virtually the exact same story as Fudgie, except it involved a lunchtime jogging excursion, a trash can, and the basement of a major downtown hotel. And this guy was well over 40. For all I know, it's still down there.


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## FusionWhite (Jan 25, 2007)

Wolverine said:


> Has anyone reached the age yet where potty humor isn't funny? It's still going pretty strong for me (ROTFL-LMAO-ASMP). Maybe I'll grow up after 40 or something but for now, anything involving poo and/or bad smells is still funny.
> While maintaining my dignity by withholding my own tale(s), I will say that we were sitting around trading stories one day when a fellow I know relayed virtually the exact same story as Fudgie, except it involved a lunchtime jogging excursion, a trash can, and the basement of a major downtown hotel. And this guy was well over 40. For all I know, it's still down there.


The day potty humor stops being funny is the day I chase a bunch of pills with some vodka and put a bag over my head. I dont think Ive laughed that damn hard in a long time.


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## civengPE (Jan 25, 2007)

I was the president of our college chapter of ASCE in my senior year. As such, I had an office in the concrete lab. We used to store beer in the fridge and we would hang out in the lab in between classes. One day, after a long night out, I was leaning back in a chair with my feet on one of the folding tables, when I thought I had to fart. Well, let's just say it was less air and more liquid. Since, noone was in the immediate area, I quickly composed myself and ran to the restroom hoping against hope that It really was just air. Well, I soon discovered that my first assesment had, in fact, been correct. "WTF am I going to do?" I thought. I had a test in a few minutes and my professors had already seen me for the day. I couldn't just skip to go home and change. Well, I removed my undeware, cleaned up with TP (alot) and threw the underware in the trash wrapped in TP. I feel sorry for the janitor cleaning up later that evening.

I did learn that going commando for a test, is very relaxing. Just make sure the shorts you wear are long enough.


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## FusionWhite (Jan 25, 2007)

My freshman year at Louisville I was walking to the first game at our brand new football stadium with some friends. The walk from the parking spot to the stadium was about a mile and half. We got about halfway when I went to push out a fart that ended up having a density closer to that of roofing tar. I remember I had to keep walking like nothing was wrong so my friends wouldnt get suspicious. What excuse I used I dont remember but I told them I had to go the library real quick (which we happened to be walking past at the time). And like Civeng, I had to clean up with TP and then toss the boxers. I did turn around and walk to the car and drove home though to get a fresh pair of undies on. I still made it to kickoff of the game which rocked.


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## Road Guy (Jan 25, 2007)

I was an Army Officer (&amp; you know what, even with command authority from _the president of the unites states_, I still enjoyed goofing off every now and then)

before that i worked at:

Home Depot : Hardware Department

Ga DOT: Cad Bitch

Ruby Tuesdays (Cook)

Active Duty enlisted (right after High School)

Krogers (back when we actually got tipped for taking groceries out!)

Krystals

Gas Station


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## petergibbons (Jan 25, 2007)

My past jobs include:

an engineering intern for small city

gas station

worked gathering materials to be used during surgery at a hospital - saw a group harvesting organs while working there...WOW

various odd jobs over the years (grass cutting, roofing, painting, etc.)


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## FusionWhite (Jan 25, 2007)

My jobs from first to last:

Phone Survey Taker (High School)

Winn Dixie bagger/cart boy

Circuit City Salesman

*A job of which I refuse to acknowledge I had* (The job wasnt bad or degrading in general but I consider it the low point of my life)

Bank Teller

Computer Repair Technician

Engineering Coop

Best Buy computer sales

State Government Department of Environmental Protection

Environmental Engineer at my present consulting company.


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## Bminer (Jan 25, 2007)

I worked for a barbecue catering company for three summers during high school and college. Besides the nice paycheck that came with working 60 hours a week, I ate my weight in free food on a daily basis. That's when I was 18-19. If I did that now, I would easily weigh 400 lbs.


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## Road Guy (Jan 25, 2007)

when we look at resumes of new grads, I always like to see if they have at least worked some odd job like Best Buy, Home Depot, restaurant, etc.

I am sure people whose mom &amp; dad paid there way through school make excellent employees also, but I will generally vote for the guy/gal who had a "real job" at some point in their life, but its amazing how many people we interviewed last year whose first job in their whole life would be the one right out of engineering school. 

something about that just doesnt seem right.


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## mizzoueng (Jan 25, 2007)

Well, if we are listing jobs.

Truss company

Pipefitter

Hay Bail Crew

Banquet Staff (setting up tables, etc)

Hotel Cook

Busboy

Waiter

Tree Trimmer (electric co-op)

Testing, Adjusting, Balancing assistant (college)

Assistant Project Manager, then turned Project Manager when my boss got gangreen (while in college)

Project Manager/Engineer/Estimator

Husband / Pimp

And now finally Assistant Mechanical Engineer


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## Dleg (Jan 25, 2007)

Wolverine said:


> Has anyone reached the age yet where potty humor isn't funny? It's still going pretty strong for me (ROTFL-LMAO-ASMP). Maybe I'll grow up after 40 or something but for now, anything involving poo and/or bad smells is still funny.


No way, Wolverine - it just gets funnier, I would have to think. All the engineers at my last workplace would get together regularly and discuss the bathroom events at the office, especially our boss (lots of good impersonations - "oohhhh! oooo! ouuuuch!") and we even had names for the types of bowel movements that would occur after eating lunch at certain establishments. For example, the "Rudy's Flash Diarrhea" (after eating at our favorite dive 'Rudolpho's'), "The Pizza Hut Push", "Mom's Round Three" (after eating at 'Mom's Round Two'), "The Bobby Crap-illac's" (after eating at 'Bobby Cadillac's'), "Dan's Daily Diarrhea" (after eating a restaurant named 'Coffee Care' owned by our friend 'Dan'), and but of course, the "Curry Slurry" after eating at 'A Taste of India'. There were others, but I'm starting to forget them.

Roadwreck - I think I got myself in trouble giggling so maniacally at work, reading your story.

But since we're on poop stories, I am tempted to share one of my own:

I lived in a house with 4 other guys during my last semester of college. It was my second senior year, and I only needed maybe three classes to graduate. I remember that these classes consisted of metallurgy (easy), the geography of natural hazards (I'll never move to Missouri), and Art History (there were actually people failing that class. WTF??). So, needless to say, my afternoons were open.

We had an afternoon routine in this house, where myself and the one other roomate who happened to be in engineering, with the same easy 5th year schedule as me, would park ourselves on the couch in the living room and play Intellivision, drink Huber beer ($8.50 a case if you returned the bottles from your previous case), and listen to the Butthole Surfers (Hairway to Steven). It was pretty easy-going.

The living room in this house was situated right between the kitchen and the hallway leading to the bedrooms. There was a bathroom just off the hallway. We had a problem with that toilet, the typical problem where if you don't rattle the handle after you've flushed, the water just keeps running, and the tank never fills. So of course, none of us ever remembered to rattle the handle, and so it was not uncommon to find "unfinished business" floating in the bowl when it was your turn.

My engineering roommate had this skinny, almost mangy Siberian Husky named "She-nook" that must have been part wolf or coyote or something, because even though it was friendly as hell, it was untrainable and almost completely out of control. It was the kind of dog that would knock down visitors to the house in order to lick them on the face, and no amount of "NO!!!!" would stop her.

So one typical afternoon, about 4 or 5 beers into an extended match of "Auto Racing," my roommate jumps up from the couch and says "holy shit! I can't keep this one in!" and then returns a few minutes later, and nonchalantly mentions that the toilet didn't flush, so I shouldn't go in there until he can return and finish flushing the monstrous log he left (and those were his exact words).

A few beers later our doorbell rings, and it's these two girls we had met in "art history" who had decided to take us up on our offer for "tutoring". We both get up from the couch, bring them a beer, and stand around near the doorway chatting. Out of the corner of my eye, I see She-nook run through from the kitchen, heading for the bedroom hallway. I think nothing of it, other than relief that she isn't heading for the girls. The conversation continues.

About 30 seconds later, it's like a ligthbulb goes off over my roommate's head, and he whirls around and runs into the hallway. By this time, I've completely forgotten about the turd. I look back at the girls, shrug my shoulders, and try to continue the conversation. But the sounds of a struggle interrupt us - grunting, a jingling dog collar, splashing, toenails on linoleum - and I suddenly realize, with great horror, what must be happening.

Thinking quickly, I say to the girls "Uh oh, we'd better head out the front door, that dog can be kind of rough." But no sooner as I've said this, my roomate suddenly appears, dragging the dog by her tail through the hallway and into the kitchen. And he's gagging involuntarily. As I'm turning my head, I can see the end of something brown and irregular in her teeth. Oh, sweet mother of Christ!

I turn back to the girls, who are also looking, but more puzzled, and hurry them out the door. In the process, I catch one last glimpse of She-nook, just before her head is dragged out of sight behind the kitchen wall, and right as she makes that doggy "move" to swing her meal around in mid-air for swallowing.

Whew! The girls obviously didn't catch what was going on. I think I explained it away to the effect of "I think the dog got into my roommate's chocolate bars."

For my roommate's part, he later told me that the dog was sniffing and sort of nudging the log around in the bowl when he first ran in, but his sudden appearance apparently triggered some sort of food-survival instinct, and she just gobbled it up as he was dragging her out.

He managed to get her out of the house and into the backyard without too much more trouble. The girls stayed to finish their beers, but to be honest, that was the last time we saw them.

I wonder why?


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## cement (Jan 25, 2007)

I really need to save this stuff for home. I am going to hurt myself trying not to laugh out loud!


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## Jax6S (Jan 25, 2007)

I was working in an environmental consulting firm, not as an engineer but as a systems analyst (IT work).


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## PEsoon2B (Jan 26, 2007)

I went on a date to six flags one summer day about 10 years ago. It was the second time that I had went out with this girl and she was one of the cheerleaders from my high school, and I was very pumped up about landing this one.

We decided to hit one of those cafe's outside at the park for lunch. I had an awesome chili dog with a bucket-o-fries. well, the food was awesome and quite greasy and began to take its toll on my digestive system. It was a couple of hours later when we were standing in line for a ride that is like a wheel that you sit two people in a car and it goes around and around then tilts and turns 90 degrees and you are going in continous loops, etc. well, we were in line for like 20 minutes already when it started to hit me. being it only the second date, I hadn't broken that fart/shit barrier yet. I couldn't tell her that I had a major case of the trots coming on, so I just held it, and figured I'd make a bathroom break after the ride.

After another ten minutes, we were finally ready to get on the ride with the next boarding, at this time I am in full sphincter control and have it clinched as tight as I possibly could. I was beginning to get the shakes.

We boarded the ride, the seat is like a sea-doo style with a cage around you, so I sat in back with her in front of me leaned up against me. Bad idea. As that ride took off, it went faster and faster and her body and mainly that nice behind was pushed further and further into my gut. Well, I was in full shivers and shakes trying to hold it back, and then things got bad. she must have known that she was smashing up against me as the thing spun and she grabbed the handles on the side of the cage and pulled herself up off of me, which was very relieving for a moment, then all of a sudden she came sliding back at me and as soon as she hit my gut it erupted. No sphincter exercises could have strenghtened it enough to withhold that much pressure. It blew out everywhere. I had shorts on with boxers underneath. It soaked thru the boxers and into my shorts, and you could even see it from outside of my shorts. I told her I just had a bad accident and was very sorry. She got quite. When the ride ended, she said "we need to find you a bathroom", I was like "no kidding"

We found a bathroom where I shagged the boxers, and tried using brown paper towels to clean up my shorts, but it was nasty and smelly. We left immediately. It was about 45 minutes to drive her home. We were silent almost the whole way and did not even talk about what happened. When we got to her house, I said "I'm really sorry about this today" she said "don't worry about it"

I never went out with her again, and have only seen her out a few times since, but no one has ever mentioned this to me, so I don't think that she ever told a soul. I thank her for that, but when I accidentally see her out, I get a sick feeling in my stomach. I wouldn't go to our h.s. reunion either thinking she'll probably go.

stay away from the grease fries.


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## petergibbons (Jan 26, 2007)

Man, Dleg, I'm losing it here! bump


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## Hill William (Jan 26, 2007)

One of my buddies got married a couple of years ago and his reception was at a nice resort in Morgantown called LakeView. There were eight groomsmen and eight bridesmaids and it was an open bar. Needless to say, the reception turned into more of a party for the wedding party. Well, we drank every drop of alchohol in the banquet hall, so we had to go to the bar in the place. Really nice sports bar that had a deck that overlooked the 18th green of the golf course. So, it gets late and we are all hammered. Two of my buddies who were groomsmen decide to have a pissing contest to see who could piss closest to the flag. Being as we were up about 20 feet on a deck, they were getting some pretty impressive distance. One of the guys was a very large fellow of about 6-6, 275 lbs and one of the funniest S.O.B.'s I know. He's straining like hell trying to win the contest when he all of a sudden does the stiffen up and clench your cheeks "move", and takes off running inside. Apparently, while pushing very hard to get the required distance, he shit in his tuxedo (rented). He just changed clothes in his hotel room and took the tux back the next day. Never said a word to the people at the tux shop. I would have liked to have been there when they tried to dry clean that bad boy.


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## DVINNY (Jan 26, 2007)

Oh this thread just gets better

PEsoon2B, did she tell you that she had a shitty time? LOL.


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## PEsoon2B (Jan 26, 2007)

Yes, but before that she asked, can you roll down any more windows?


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## RIP - VTEnviro (Jan 26, 2007)

Well, seeing as the topic of this thread has devolved from summer jobs to digestive diasters, I'll chime in with one.

A few years ago, it was snowing like mad one day, and our office closed early. My girlfriend at the time (who's going to marry me in spite of this) was in town visiting for a few days. So I came out, we had Chinese buffet for lunch, grabbed a case of beer, and headed over to the local school to go sleigh riding.

There was a great big hill there that was great for sledding. So we shoved the beer in the snow and had at it. We had been doing this for an hour or so when I began to feel a pressure in my lower abdomen. The vast amount of food I had eaten for lunch was pushing like a weight on the half digested meal already in there. (typical post-buffet phenomenon) The 3 or 4 beers weren't helping either with this volumetric dilemma.

Well naturally I ignored it and kept sledding. It was just too much fun. Plus it was too cold to drop a loaf in the woods. Well another half hour and a couple more beers later, I'm really hurting. But I wanted to get one or two more last runs in before heading home. The sporadic yet fetid pop gun farts I had should have been a clue to quit. Naturally, I tempted fate instead.

I ran with all my might and jumped on the sled. I'm really flying down the hil, until.....OH FUCK! I'm heading for a rock sticking out of the ground. I hit the rock, got some air, and was thrown from my snowy chariot.

I proceeded to roll the rest of the way down the hill. Unbeknownst to me, sometime during that chaos, I released a steaming batch of trouser chutney right into my snug fitting long johns.

My little lady, her concern evident, and seeing the look of sheer horror on my face as I realized the gravity of my situation, hollers out from the top of the hill - "Are you OK?" I think I muttered, "I'll be right back!" Then did the old soggy sphincter shuffe into the woods to evaluate the mess.

It wasn't pretty.

What was worse, there wasn't a roll of TP within a mile radius of me. There was however, an abundance of snow that made for a chilly but effective clean up operation. My thighs didn't thaw out for a week afterwards.

And that was we now affectionately refer to as, "The Poopsicle Incident"


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## Fudgey (Jan 26, 2007)




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## RIP - VTEnviro (Jan 26, 2007)

Hey Fudgey, what brand pillow case is that?


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## jroyce (Jun 21, 2007)

Thanks for bump ing that thread Sapper. That was hilarious. I think I had everyone lookign at me because I couldn't hold in the laughter. Great stories guys. Of course made the Thursday morning go by much quicker.


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## VA_Env_Engr (Jul 3, 2007)

This shit is hilarious (pardon the pun). But I agree that I should've read these at home. My co-workers have been looking at me funny for the last 15 minutes.

:Locolaugh: :bowdown:


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## Undertaker (Jul 4, 2007)

:Locolaugh: You guys are nuts :Locolaugh: The last time I laugh so hard for so long was when I divorced my ex.


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## civilsid (Aug 11, 2007)

Wow- what a bunch of stories. I guess I will start with my jobs since that is what this post was originally about.

From probably grade school up through junior high school, I worked on local farms. My grandfather was a farmer and I used to stack hay and straw bails. I used to hoe rows of plants that seemed a mile long and got paid dang near nothing.

Then I was a dishwasher at a couple places once I got my license to drive.

When I graduated from H.S. I fixed pallets which has to be one of the worst jobs of all time.

I would get a stack of bad pallets 18 high. Pull off the top pallet, throw it on the work bench, tear off the bad boards, nail on the good boards, flip it over, tear off the bad boards, nail on the good boards and make a stack of good pallets 18 high. In the winter, the pallets would be full of ice and snow and weigh an extra 25 pounds each. My gloves would be soaked through and it was a crappy, sloppy job in the winter. In the summer, I was breathing in sawdust and ceramics dust or whatever had been on the pallets last. We were in a steel frame building that was like a damn oven. I made minimum wage plus 10 cents a pallet. I went to college during the day and worked that job at night. I worked there for over a year- it had to be because I actually earned a paid vacation. I guess that is where I learned to persevere. I didn't quit because they were very easy with my work schedule and I could work extra on the weekends and get 25 cents a pallet on sat. and sunday.

I paid my own way through RIT- went to Woodstock in '94 and brought a couple thousand T-shirts with me that I designed and paid to get screen printed. I actually made about $500 an hour until it started to rain. I cleared about $3,500 that weekend and used that to get into school.

Sold my car for additional money since I couldn't afford to keep it on the road anyways and I lived in the dorms. I worked at Arby's in the Marketplace Mall food court. I kept $5 back from every paycheck so I would have the dollar a day it took to ride the bus to work. All of the rest of the money went to the bursar's office. I was on the meal plan and lived on campus so my entire life was financed.

I had a co-op position for 6 months at New Venture Gear in Syracuse which allowed me to get my tuition paid up. I remember paying for my entire bill using credit cards one semester (actually quarters, not semesters) but I found a way.

My next co-op was in sunny San Diego at SAIC- Science Applications International Corporation. They gave me an airline ticket out, paid me $15 an hour and even paid for my apartment which was walking distance to work. I always did whatever I could to get as much OT as possible during my co-ops becuase I was always behind the 8-ball trying to get that damned tuition paid. RIT got all my freaking money.

I got kicked out of school - honest to God- 8 credit hours shy of graduation- becuase I owed them to much money.

My good friend convinced me to start a computer store with him and I did that for 5 or 6 years but then sold him my half of the business and went back and got my degree which says I graduated with a BSME in May of 2003. So that took a long time but dammit, I did it.

I then moved to Kingman, AZ in the spring of 2004 and have been working in civil engineering ever since that time.

I have my degree.

I have my wonderful wife.

I have my license.

I have my home.

I have my airplane.

I have money in the bank.

I am happy now.

I have arrived. :winko:


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## cement (Aug 11, 2007)

damn, that's a great story civilsid! :appl:

and welcome to the board!


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## maryannette (Aug 12, 2007)

Before my husband and I were married, I was out of work after moving or something. Anyway, he was working as an electrician and supervising a job at a saw mill to run cunduit and pull wire at the ceiling 40 feet up. Since I didn't have any other plan, I worked for him for 2 weeks running conduit, terminating panels, etc. I was cutting and threading pipe, carrying it up a 40' ladder, and getting it connected and strapped. I can't believe I did that. I prefer a cubicle.


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## Dleg (Aug 12, 2007)

So civilsid, got any pictures of those original Woodstock T-shirt designs? I've considered doing that for extra cash. Tourists love to buy T-shirts, but most of what's available to them are crap. A decent design would probably outsell all of it, and it's so easy to get into - just hire a screen printer, and you're basically done.


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## cement (Aug 13, 2007)

I put myself thru school too, but I saved a ton of money by renting my own apartments and getting roomates to help with the rent. plus, by renting in the seedier neighborhoods of Boston, I got to meet interesting people like prostitutes and drug addicts that we just didn't get to know back on the farm!


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## Capt Worley PE (Aug 13, 2007)

I bush hogged fields for a couple of summers. I made about 22 bucks an hour doing that. I worked as a substitute lifeguard and worked my way up to assistant manager over a couple of years. Didjn't get paid that much, but the scenery was outstanding.


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## Guest (Aug 13, 2007)

civilsid --

A very inspiring story - thanks for sharing! :thumbs: :bananalama:

I muttled through college on a scholarship, navy active reserve duty, working in a work study-like program (laboratories and libraries), and picking up the occasional odd job here and there. It took me 6 1/2 yrs for a 5-yr degree, but all-in-all it worked out well. I have no complaints or regrets.

JR


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## civilsid (Aug 13, 2007)

thanks guys-

I just couldn't even picture it when someone posted that the engineering company was the first job they worked and so that being after college means they did what for many of the in between years? Wow.

Sapper- my parents divorced when I was young and I also bounced around foster care for a while but I don't remember it real well becasue I was probably 6 to 8 years old. My father remarried and my brother and I picked up another brother and 4 sisters after the merging of the two families. 3rd grade was the first normal year of school where I stayed in the same place all year.

My brother went downhill for a time but somehow I kept my nose clean, never did any drugs, etc. Fortunately my brother is now also doing well for himself but I frequently wonder how I managed.

I hope it keeps getting better- now I just have to get my patent into production and marketed so I can make some crazy money!


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## ktulu (Aug 13, 2007)

Baseball scholarship to a JUCO paid for the first two years of college. It paid for 9 quarters of school, so I packed them full. When I graduated from JUCO, I was classified as a Senior at Auburn. That let me sign up for classes first, which was nice. I also went the Co-Op route, working in town so I didn't have to move. Took out loans to pay for the rest. Did the 5-year Civil program in 4, thanks to JUCO...


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## bigray76 (Aug 13, 2007)

Firefighter for Rutgers University

The department was a student run organization from line officers to firefighters - there was a paid chief, deputy chief, and fire inspectors.

We worked every home football game ($8 an hour to be on stand by); got half of our housing back (if you made 50% of your calls and 75% of the drills); reduced rates on parking

We also had a deal with facilities - we would assist (for $10/hr) for standpipe testing ($13.50/hr if you were a supervisor). We would work friday, saturday, and sunday (rotating crews) each year.

I also worked in the civil engineering lab my senior year, spring semester about 25 - 30 hours a week pouring concrete beams for a grad student every day ($10/hour since I was cleared to drive University vehicles).

-Ray


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## snickerd3 (Aug 13, 2007)

Other than babysitting, my first job was at ToysRUs. I started there when I turned 15 and worked there throughout high school and summer/winter breaks in college...although I really started working there when I was about 8 or 9, my mom worked nights there and My sister and I had to sit in their breakroom and wait for our dad to pick us up. They would buy us pop and snacks for doing reshop (putting stuff back on the shelf that was left at registers or brought back)...we truely were ToysRUs kids. I interned one summer in the lab for an air sampling company..turbines, stacks, etc. During college I worked at the Krannert Center (the performing arts building) basically as a ticket taker and helping people in wheelchairs to their seats. That bought food and other stuff, but I had to take loans out for eveything else. My first job out of college and I'm still working here is with the Illinois Environmental Protection Agency.


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## TXengrChickPE (Aug 13, 2007)

The summer between high school graduation and 1st semester of college I was trying desparately to make enough money to pay for entire year of school. So, my "main" job was night shift at a pretzel factory. Since I was untrained and they didn't wanna waste their time training someone they knew was leaving for college in 2 months, I was only allowed to bag the broken pretzels. At first, I thought that meant that any pretzels that got broken by accident get bagged and sold as "Brokes" (that's really what they called them). Somewhat to my surprise, it turned out that the "Brokes" sold better than the whole pretzels, so we broke them. Basically, you pick up 3 sourdough pretzels (they were the really hard, break a tooth type, 3/4" thick, palm-sized) put your hand in the bag with the pretzels and squeeze. Did I mention that these pretzels are really hard? We bled, A LOT! We wore gloves but they were cheap versions of doctors gloves, so after the first or second handful, they were torn. I have never bought a bag of broken pretzels again! That job paid ~$8/hr.

My second job that summer was "live-in babysitter/yard-worker/barn painter/pool cleaner/whatever else they wanted me to do" for a family that lived down the street from my parents. I had gotten myself kicked out of my parents house by then, but was only 17 so it was hard to find an apartment to rent. This family said that I could camp out in their barn apartment in exchange for work. The first 12hrs each week covered my room and board. Anything over 12 hours was paid under the table at $4.50/hr. Between the pretzel factory and working for this family, I averaged about 100hrs/week and took home between $400-450/week. I did manage to save enough for tuition and room/board. My loans that year covered books.

After that, I got a job in the computer labs on campus and essentially worked as close to full-time as students were allowed to (39.9 hrs/week) for Sophomore thru 1st Senior year. Also worked at a locat pet shop on the side. My 2nd senior year I worked as a CAD drafter for the campus Office of the Physical Plant. For the first semester of my 3rd (and final) senior year, I worked for a local Civil Engineering firm as a junior engineer/draftsperson. Then I got pregnant, although I'm not sure where I found the time! My (then) fiancee was in Grad School by then and was working full time as an Electrical Engineer. We managed (with a little help from his mom and dad) to pay for my last semester without me having to work, so I could stay home (other than classes) with our daughter.

The nice part about all of that is that I truly feel like I EARNED my degree. The bad part was that a lot of professors assumed that all of us were being supported by our parents and only had jobs to make beer money. Oh well, I made it through and that's what really matters


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## frazil (Aug 13, 2007)

^Wow. Those are all good stories. TX - that's pretty unnerving about the pretzels. Yikes!


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## TXengrChickPE (Aug 13, 2007)

^^ yeah, that's why I don't eat broken pretzels anymore... granted this was 12 years ago, they maaaaay have changed their procedures... but I'm not taking any chances


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## kevo_55 (Aug 13, 2007)

Wow TX, I hope that no blood got into the "brokes!!!"


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## RIP - VTEnviro (Jul 21, 2009)

bump

Let's hear what the n00bs did before the world of being a PE.


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## Ble_PE (Jul 21, 2009)

My first job was when I was 14 and I worked at a fish camp (seafood restaurant). I started off bussing tables and washing dishes and moved up to working the fryers and the grill (which is illegal for anyone &lt; 18.

After that job I quit working until I was 16. When I turned 16 I started working at Food Lion bagging groceries. I eventually make it to stock boy before I left to college. My last semester of HS I worked 3rd shift on the weekends stocking. Those were some great times!

Worked at Kmart in college for 1 year after I quit playing football. I worked in the garden shop and it paid pretty good, so it wasn't too bad.

The last job before engineering work was at Bass Pro Shops. I was an hourly front-end manager, which means I was in charge of all the cashiers and customer service workers. It was a good job and a lot of fun.


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## Kephart P.E. (Jul 21, 2009)

My first job was working for my Dad at about 14. My Dad and Uncle owned Auto Repair Shop and I swept the floors, helped on repair cleaned up that sort of thing. I worked for my Dad on and off thru High School mostly summers and after school whenever I didn't have a sport ongoing. My cousin and I also did some hay baling for small local farmers during the summers so we could afford dirtbikes.

After High School the NBA wasn't calling and the thought of more school seemed really boring, so in 1993 I joined the US Army as a Infantry Soldier. Mom wasn't too happy. I got stationed at Ft. Bragg, and hated every minute of it. The guys I were with were cool, but there isn't anything about Fayetteville that I liked. So I volunteered to go to Rigger School, they told me I would likely be right back at Ft Bragg, but I figured I would take my chances. The school was like 16 weeks long and while there someone was smiling down upon me because Spec Ops needed 6 Riggers and I was sent to Ft. Lewis and part of 1st Special Forces Grp.

While there I deployed on missions to S. Korea, Alaska, Indonesia, Thailand, and all around the U.S. probably some places I am forgetting, but different S.F. Teams were constantly deploying somewhere and if they were doing any Airborne Ops they typically one or two Riggers were required to pack the parachutes rig the resupply loads. It was a real cool job as deploying with a SF Team isn't like the regular Army, the saying goes "Special Forces, special things" basically it was like being on a business trip as an Engineer. You do your job then can go out on the town, eat drink and be merry so to speak. I know it doesn't sound that great but compared to the 82nd Airborne Division it is like Heaven. After about 3 years, I wanted to be a Green Beret so they offered me SFAS, basically it is the course you go thru to see if they want to select you for training. But they would want me to reenlist for 6 years, quickly doing the math I realized I would be 28. At that time it seemed I would be very old. I decided I would like to see what civilian life would be like. So I got out and moving in with the Girlfriend, collected unemployment for 4 months, drank beer, watched Football, and watched her work. It was great fun for a while.

I eventually got a job working at place that made the aluminum substrates for computer hard drive disks. While working there some of the Engineers befriended me and I started looking into going back to school. I also did a little bar tending part time mostly for fun and some extra cash. Went to a Community College for 2 years and with GI Bill/College Fund plus a job loading UPS Trucks from 3 am to 8 -I was mostly debt free. I got my transfer degree and went to Oregon State.

I didn't work during the school year at OSU, but that first summer I at lumber mill, the work sucked ($8 hour), but I could work Swing Shift which meant I got to sleep in every day and all the overtime you could stand. Luckily being a Veteran you are really eligible for way more Government assistance than average students. They don't count your parents income (no matter your age) and the GI Bill isn't counted as income either. And I always did work for UPS during the X-mas season as a drivers jumper, basically you just rode around with in the truck and ran packages to people's door, easiest job ever, except for the weather in Oregon in December. So in reality I had it really good in college, I still had student loans, but nothing outrageous.

My junior year my parents house burned down, so my last summer of college I basically worked for them helping to re-landscape their yard, re-roof/painted the garage to match (etc). They gave me free room and board plus 7 dollars an hour. I actually made more money that summer than working at the lumber mill. Plus I ate way better.


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## Chucktown PE (Jul 21, 2009)

I don't think I ever posted here.

My dad is a veterinarian so from the time I was about 10 until 15 I spent my summers cleaning kennels at his office. I eventually got promoted to giving dogs baths and flea dips.

After that I got a job at Ace Hardware. It was back when Ace was a real hardware store, i.e. they didn't carry tupperware and appliances and shit. I worked on the floor and loved helping people that came in to the store because nobody at Lowes or HD would give them the time of day. I also assembled lawn mowers, grills, wheelbarrows, etc. I ended up being an assistant manager before I went to college. I also worked there summer after freshman year.

During Freshman and Sophmore years of college I worked at the bookstore. That was the worst job ever. I bagged books because the people working the cash registers were too incompetent to bag books and ring up customers.

I had internships after that during the summers, worked in a lab as a research assistant during grad school, and have been working here since grad school.


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## MGX (Jul 21, 2009)

First job was framing houses. Long hours in the summer with grumpy old alcoholics and dropouts. The only plus was the physical labor meant I could eat as much as I liked and still look like a stud.

Second was Taco Bell. A major step down but a step with air conditioning! The best and worst day was when a pair of ghetto hood rats came in and started heckling some farmer looking guy. Mr. farmer got up and busted both across the face with a single punch! The place was quiet, I think it was everyone admiring mr. farmer for giving us some peace until the hood rats maced 3/4 of the people in the dining room. Police arrived and the manager shut down the dining room, but left the drive thru open. Mace doesn't clear out in any short amount of time so I quit that night before my eyes teared up to the point of my being blind.

Third was a supermarket. Boredom in the extreme. We did build a secret fort on the dairy cooler out of milk crates and cardboard boxes which was fun until the store manager found it and tore it down.

Fourth, Fifth and Sixth was working in several auto repair shops and too many stories to convey here.

Seventh was designer for cable television and telephony. B.o.r.i.n.g.

Eight is fire protection which is quite fun.


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## Kephart P.E. (Jul 21, 2009)

MGX said:


> First job was framing houses. Long hours in the summer with grumpy old alcoholics and dropouts. The only plus was the physical labor meant I could eat as much as I liked and still look like a stud.
> Second was Taco Bell. A major step down but a step with air conditioning! The best and worst day was when a pair of ghetto hood rats came in and started heckling some farmer looking guy. Mr. farmer got up and busted both across the face with a single punch! The place was quiet, I think it was everyone admiring mr. farmer for giving us some peace until the hood rats maced 3/4 of the people in the dining room. Police arrived and the manager shut down the dining room, but left the drive thru open. Mace doesn't clear out in any short amount of time so I quit that night before my eyes teared up to the point of my being blind.
> 
> Third was a supermarket. Boredom in the extreme. We did build a secret fort on the dairy cooler out of milk crates and cardboard boxes which was fun until the store manager found it and tore it down.
> ...



Ah, everyone loves a nice assault story at a Taco Bell. So here is mine I was at one in El Paso, TX (at about 1 am), and I guy tried to mug me with The Club. That's right, not a club, but the Auto Theft deterrent.

Luckily I was so drunk, I just laughed at him until his two honchos showed up to help, ....but even after a night of drinking in Juarez I still able to outrun these dipshits around the Bell until my buddies inside came to my aid. They made me drop by bean burrito and the employees made us leave after the fight, so I had to go home hungry. :blowup:


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## csb (Aug 4, 2009)

VTEnviro said:


> bump
> Let's hear what the n00bs did before the world of being a PE.


Hmm...no one has listed "crapping pants" as something they did before being a PE. More refined group nowadays, I guess.


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## Dexman1349 (Aug 4, 2009)

csb said:


> Hmm...no one has listed "crapping pants" as something they did before being a PE. More refined group nowadays, I guess.


No, I think it's quiet the opposite. It's become so common that it's no longer a reportable activity... :mf_followthroughfart:


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## Master slacker (Aug 21, 2009)

I've been here long enough to contribute to this thread. So here goes my little life's story.

My first job was summer league swim coach. I think I got paid under the table starting when I was 14 and was actually a "legally" paid employee at 15 (minimum age for work at the time). I had swum at that country club since I was about 4 and I knew everyone there. For the lack of better words, this was an "affordable" CC. Nothing high dollar at all. I was a coach from 14 to 17 working mainly with 9-10 year olds. That's the perfect age where they'll listen, but rarely test the waters of talking back. Granted, this was the early '90's and I'm certain kids have changed since then. The only real perks of that job were having the respect of parents, not being questioned by the parents as far as what's best for their children, and the kids calling me either "Mr. Kevin" or "Coach Kevin". I felt really old when I found out, through facebook, that my favorite kid got married last year. ld-025:

At 18, after graduating, I coached for a different club where all my friends were just so we would win the summer league city meet. Not only did we win, I think we shattered every record that summer. Ah, good times. I also taught swim lessons and lifeguarded at LSU. That was boring, but the views were nice.

My first four years of college I didn't even pursue a job. I had a swimming scholarship and Louisiana's new TOPS scholarship. With the exception of meals, everything was paid. My parents didn't have to worry about paying for school, they lived only 30 minutes away (mom was very happy about that part), and through swimming they got to travel to different areas of the country to watch me swim. Doing the math, though, I got paid much less than minimum wage.

At 22, at the end of my eligibility, I stopped swimming because I wanted to sleep in for once. That summer I worked in the shop of probably the dirtiest and most dangerous chemical plant in the area. I helped manage the tool room, worked with the millwrights, pipefitters, welders, etc..., and sorted the room of bolts. I learned to weld... poorly. I also got to experience my first turnaround. It was scheduled for 2 weeks, but after a tropical storm parked on top of us for 2 weeks, it turned into 2 months. That sucked.

&lt;damn, this is getting long&gt;

Graduated a year later (right after 9/11) and could only get a job as a field engineer doing industrial construction. I did/inspected everything from concrete to equipment startup of a coker project in Texas City. Got laid off 18 months later - economy and construction projects dried up.

After 6 months of unemployment, my future bro-in-law got me a job working off shore. This is the first job I ever quit. 2 months of work and I slept in my own bed 2 nights. In total, I probably only had 24 hours off. "After 5 years, you could have an office job." F that.

Back to school for masters work. During that time I was TA for several classes. My favorite was TA for undergrad dynamics. The kids would have class two days per week and see me two days per week for "lab" work. This lab work was just DOING the homework problems so that they would understand the concepts and their applications. There were two lab sections with 30 kids in each. I sucked for a couple of weeks... HARDCORE. Stage fright, "uh" and "um" were commonplace along with "I don't know". Needless to say, my class dwindled to about 10. Finally I got my act together and attendence increased. People came by my lab for questions every day. Felt great. By the end of the semester, and the final lab before the final, I had EVERY STUDENT (all 60) crammed in my classroom. The day after I helped with the exam there was a case of beer on my desk. Sweet. I was also voted most outstanding TA that semester for the engineering dept by the students. Super sweet. If it weren't for the pay difference, I'd love to be a high school math and physics teacher.

Graduated... again... work in chemical industry. Got my P.E. license, but don't need it for current job.

Geez us! That was long winded. Sorry 'bout that.


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## Dleg (Aug 23, 2009)

Master slacker said:


> After 6 months of unemployment, my future bro-in-law got me a job working off shore. This is the first job I ever quit. 2 months of work and I slept in my own bed 2 nights. In total, I probably only had 24 hours off. "After 5 years, you could have an office job." F that.


^ I'm here to verify you're not exaggerating. Been there, done that.


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## Supe (Aug 24, 2009)

Dleg said:


> ^ I'm here to verify you're not exaggerating. Been there, done that.



Yeah, but the pay is good, and they call them roughnecks for a reason!


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## XOXOXO (Nov 2, 2010)

Bigwolf said:


> Dleg said:
> 
> 
> > :lmao: Bravo, Fudgey!
> ...


I hate to bring this up because its so ridiculous when I think about it (and it happened soooo long ago) but I worked at an insurance company before going to college to be an engineer and I told a coworker that I would be putting my two week notice in so that I could obtain a degree in engineering...she actually said, "but you can make like $24K a year here!" I thanked her for her advice and I now make close to $90K. Some people should NOT give advice.


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## MA_PE (Nov 2, 2010)

POed Mommy said:


> I hate to bring this up because its so ridiculous when I think about it (and it happened soooo long ago) but I worked at an insurance company before going to college to be an engineer and I told a coworker that I would be putting my two week notice in so that I could obtain a degree in engineering...she actually said, "but you can make like $24K a year here!" I thanked her for her advice and I now make close to $90K. Some people should NOT give advice.


Is that what made you POed initially?


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## Supe (Nov 2, 2010)

Why be PO'd? That's fatty money, right?


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## RIP - VTEnviro (Nov 2, 2010)

Wow, I haven't read this classic Fudgey story in ages.


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## XOXOXO (Nov 3, 2010)

MA_PE said:


> POed Mommy said:
> 
> 
> > I hate to bring this up because its so ridiculous when I think about it (and it happened soooo long ago) but I worked at an insurance company before going to college to be an engineer and I told a coworker that I would be putting my two week notice in so that I could obtain a degree in engineering...she actually said, "but you can make like $24K a year here!" I thanked her for her advice and I now make close to $90K. Some people should NOT give advice.
> ...


I really have to find out how to hang out with you guys more...


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## XOXOXO (Nov 3, 2010)

Supe said:


> Why be PO'd? That's fatty money, right?


Ain't so fatty when you live in metro NY. I still feel like I make minimum wage.


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## MA_PE (Nov 3, 2010)

POed Mommy said:


> Supe said:
> 
> 
> > Why be PO'd? That's fatty money, right?
> ...


I see. I thought that was minimum wage in the big apple ("...don't mind the maggots" - Mick Jagger)


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## NCSU_05_FX4 (Nov 3, 2010)

Here's what I do when I'm not doing in-office engineering work... (I'm on the left)







As for other jobs I've had, lets see....

Started out working at Burger King when I turned 16 and could drive myself to work. Since I was able to do math without a calculator (seriously, I was probably the only one there that could) I was stuck running the drive thru from 6am till after the lunch rush. Did that for a summer then decided I never wanted to deal with "The Public" like that again. That job alone solidified my desire to get a college degree.

I took the summer after I graduated HS off from work, and then after my first year at college, I got an internship assisting a process engineer at a plant that manufactured industrial sized battery backup systems (back up power for things like airport radars, the NYSE, hospitals, etc).

That wasn't exactly any fun, so I strayed away from the engineering type work and got a job slinging dough at a "gourmet" pizza parlor near campus. It wasn't bad... pay was decent and the work was easy. That lasted maybe a year or so, and while I was doing that I also sold concessions at the State Fairgrounds for various shows out there. We made 10% of our total sales and were paid in cash. In a decent weekend we could make $200+, not a bad gig for a college kid.

After all that I realized I needed a job I could put on a resume when I graduated, so I started looking for engineering type work again. As it happens, I came across a position for an intern at the NCDOT Rail Division, to assist the project engineers working there. I got that job, worked there for about a year and a half, graduated, and through the contacts I made there I was offered a position with my current company.


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## Exengineer (Nov 12, 2010)

NCSU_05_FX4 said:


> Here's what I do when I'm not doing in-office engineering work... (I'm on the left)
> 
> 
> 
> ...


It is ironic that many of the students who got their college or university degree to avoid fast food or pizza jobs are doing just that, working in a pizza joint or bartending or whatever because they found their great vaunted degree didn't get them a "real job". Engineering degrees are among the worst offenders in that regard because students have been propagandized into believing that these degrees are ironclad, can't-miss, impossible-to-fail degrees that will bring great success, but fail to understand that North America is being rapidly deindustrialized and engineers are becoming a dime-a-dozen, there are far too many of them chasing after too few jobs.


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## RIP - VTEnviro (Nov 12, 2010)

^Well, since you've left the industry, that just means more for us.


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## NCSU_05_FX4 (Nov 19, 2010)

Exengineeer said:


> It is ironic that many of the students who got their college or university degree to avoid fast food or pizza jobs are doing just that, working in a pizza joint or bartending or whatever because they found their great vaunted degree didn't get them a "real job". Engineering degrees are among the worst offenders in that regard because students have been propagandized into believing that these degrees are ironclad, can't-miss, impossible-to-fail degrees that will bring great success, but fail to understand that North America is being rapidly deindustrialized and engineers are becoming a dime-a-dozen, there are far too many of them chasing after too few jobs.


Interesting you quote my post when you say this... I've been gainfully employed as an engineer since graduating with my BSME. All those BS jobs I talk about above were jobs I had while in school.

I do agree that there are plenty of engineers out there and with certain types of work drying up, yes there often many well qualified engineers going after the same job. That's why when I had the opportunity to get some specialized training, I jumped on it. Now I'm qualified to run underwater inspection crews, as well as do inspections myself, for a variety of clients (private, port authorities, military, etc).

When I'm not out diving, I do engineering work for the railroad industry, another specialization that not many engineers have. Just cuz some engineers are having a hard time doesn't mean all of them are.


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## pbrme (Aug 8, 2011)

College years, I worked seasonal construction, mechanics, and summer painting crew. Built pole buildings, garages, remodels, roofing, rebuilt engines, tuneups on fleet rigs and managed huffers spiffing up summer appartment turnovers. All minimum wage.

Post College: Worked for a mechanical contractor; estimating, controls design, cad, Proj. Engineer and designer.


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## 3point5 (Aug 8, 2011)

In the construction management days, I was an intern and we needed a roller operator, so the field superintendent looked at me and showed me the basics of a small to mid-sized sheep's foot compactor…

we had +/- 2000 cy of cut to fill that we were moving for a small taxilane at the colorado springs (colorado) airport. we hired a small 1 man scrapper subcontractor from eastern colorado to do the work.

The field superintendent, who was a pretty serious guy said:

"all you have to do is follow the scraper"

and so, I simply followed the scraper, from the cut to the fill, and so forth…the field sup't came back and was watching from about 200' away and couldnt believe that I was LITERALLY following the scraper, got in his pickup drove over and ripped me a new one…

I felt pretty stupid...


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## PE-ness (Aug 22, 2011)

^Yeah, but where did you poo?


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