I was in college. So ya, I was broke. Im sure you’ve been there before. There comes a point where you’re so broke you’ll take whatever you can to make some money. I looked on the universities’ “careers” website, and every single job they offered required some sort of certification, “people skills”, or literally being a woman… But then there it was, the diamond in the rough; somewhere on about page 16 there was a job at a meat processing plant in the neighboring village 20 miles away. Well being the good little boy that I was, I printed off a fresh resume and dressed in clean clothes to make a good impression.
I arrived at what appeared to be just a normal house with an oversized garage in a residential area. Immediately it dawned upon me that the clean clothes and resume were probably entirely unnecessary. “Im looking for the boss.” “Well you’re looking at him.” I gave him a firm handshake and explained I was looking for a job. I was told to show up tomorrow. Well that was easy.
It was Saturday morning and I was bright and early at 8am. I was told to wear “throw away clothes”, another good sign. It was the dead middle of hunting season and a weekend to boot. A handheld electric jigsaw was thrust into my hands and I was immediately put to work cutting off heads and legs of animals. After the extremities were removed a hook attached to a roller was placed in the hawkes and an electronic hoist was used the lift the carcass’s onto a rail that ran the circumference of the garage.
When I inquired as to the rank stench emanating off each and every dead animal that came under my charge, I was told frankly that they piss on themselves to attract females. Eureka! Another weapon in my game arsenal. Some bucks had a nice rack and the customer would watch as I sawed into the skulls until I struck brain matter in order to remove them. Every time enough limbs and heads had been removed to fill a wheelbarrow I made my way to an industrial dumpster in the back yard. Every time on the way back the biggest mongrel you’ve ever seen strained the chains on its leash and loudly informed me in dog language that he wanted to rip my guts out. Once I got to the dumpster I had to maneuver my way up a set of stairs made from pallets and 2x4s, heave the wheelbarrow filled with gore up past my chest and dump it. Blood leaked out from holes in the bottom of the dumpster and pooled at the base. Some of it was running into the neighbors yard…
I asked the owner, “Hey that dog is huge! How can you afford to feed him?”
“Grody, I run a meat shop.”
Dumb people don’t really appreciate my sense of humor…
Once the rush of dead bodies subsided a little bit, I was tasked with taking the skinned carcass’s to the freezer. The boss insisted that all of them be put on the same rail. This particular rail was a simple 2×4 attached to the wall with heavy spikes. It was already overfull and I could tell it was going to go because the spikes were pulling away from the wall. But, the guy insisted that they all go on there. Well, the last damn animal that could have possibly fit was the one to break the camels back. All the slippery dead bodies cascaded down upon me and slid across the concrete floor like hockey pucks. I told the people in the shop what had happened and that I needed a hammer and some spikes. Nobody really seemed too worried that peoples food was laying on the floor. But, I was determined to fix the problem as quickly as possible in order to avoid thinking about how much this job sucked. After pounding in three times as many spikes as were in before I went beast mode on their dead asses. Dead lifting about 20 frozen hunks of venison onto their original hooks.
The boss gave me some knives and an apron. Now I was going to learn butchery. Theres a lot more craftsmanship to it than Id anticipated. I had hardly made any progress when 8pm hit and everyone ditched their knives and aprons and started cleaning up. We used a push broom and hose to wash the gore into drains in the center of the concrete floor. We would then remove the plastic drain covers and dig out the flecks of sinew, meat, and fat into the garbage can. Again, I was in charge of the garbage can. My coworker needed a ride home, as his car had recently broken down. As I dropped him off at the trailer park I remember thinking “I hope he doesn’t wear that disgusting fedora to a night on the town”
The second day held even more treats for me. A half rotten moose that had turned green. Ripping out the ivory of several Elk with a pair of vise grips. Getting so sweaty in 35 degree weather that I had to strip down to my wife beater. One of the female butchers in the shop made a comment that I was attractive. My boss agreed. Ooookay…
The next week I got arrested and had my license temporarily suspended. What a great excuse to never return to that shithole. I had a friend of mine pick up my weekends pay. About 110 dollars.