This story takes place well over a decade ago, so this is ancient history. In December, I finished my Master’s program and needed to earn some money until I began my PhD program the following Fall. I wanted to do something relevant to my experience and I found a job posting for a court reporting service. The company was looking for a videographer to record depositions since most professionals can’t make court dates. Just like today, doctors can’t take the time to see you when you want.

I applied for the job since I had a background in video production. I majored in it during undergrad, and it was a hobby of mine. I used to film my friends attempting skate tricks and I would capture the moment when they received their first street vasectomy when they fell. This job required me to film legal proceedings which are fancier versions of the same thing, minus the blood.

I was vastly overqualified (as proclaimed by their HR), but I earned the job. Needless to say, the gig was far from glamorous. Since I was hired close to the winter holidays, there were very few depositions happening. This meant I would have to do a lot of menial tasks around the office. Some of them were not too awful, like assembling legal transcripts or going to the post office to get the mail. They were tedious, but they at least passed the time.

Then there were the ethically questionable tasks. This included taking check deposits to the local banks. On more than one occasion I had to make withdrawals for the boss out of their “petty cash fund” which was usually five thousand dollars. Here I am, earning just above minimum wage, tasked to take out thousands of dollars, in cash, and bring it back to the boss’s office. It was always awkward to have a satchel in my hand that held more money than what I would make in three months with the company.

At this point, some of you are shaking your head. That silly line about additional job duties on a posting can only get stretched so far, but then things took a turn. On my third day on the job, my fellow videographer and I were given a special assignment, one of high priority. We were told to put up the Christmas tree, you know, because we were both strong lads with healthy backs. That would be fine, even tolerable on the list of gopher tasks I had to deal with at this job. Point me in the direction of the storage closet and we will get this done.

However, this tree was located outside the office. In fact, this tree was located at the boss’s house. That’s right. We were told to go to our employer’s multimillion dollar home and build their fake tree. When we arrived, the servant took us down to the basement, pointed out the tree, and we brought the blasted thing up to the first floor. We didn’t have to put the decorations on (that would be too exploitative). The whole task took less than five minutes.

The whole time I was there I was surrounded by home furnishings that cost more than a year’s pay, putting up a tree for a person who had no respect for me or any other human being under their employment. It was a good thing I already had some experience in grad school otherwise I might have felt humiliated about what I was doing for a job. Thankfully, I only had to work at the place for eight months before I began working on my doctoral degree. However, the scars the place gave me are still fresh in my mind.

There is a myriad of things I could talk about with that job, but this felt appropriate since it is December. Happy Holidays!