I worked at a gym from age 15. But I was not payed through the books therefore my tax requirements were not paid and my parents said I needed a "proper" job. So I got one.
My first manager I respected even though he wasn't my type of person and compared my intelligence to a dumb as a washboard skater bloke.
My second manager was not much better. I was to receive my "bronze" training. She took the booklets to the shop floor and layed them on the table for me to work through. She started to explain the first couple "to get me going ". Now any one who knew me would have said I know that you know what a rotten piece of fruit looks like because you all ready do it every day you are here, but this is official paperwork/protocol and had to be done.
So I came the bag with her for a week, and she got really wound up that I was clowning around and not listening.
I was just 18 and I thought I knew it all and I damn well knew what mould or black rot looked like on fruit considering I ate enough.
I flicked through my training handbook and questions. It was more just pictures of products. Common savvy.
So when she showed me the product code number on the shelves I just thought to myself I have enough to facts and figures to revise at college and to hell with staying at this place.