My worst job was a three-month stint washing dishes in a bar from 11 pm to 3 a.m. three nights a week for minimum wage. 

It was a bar that served a limited menu, and each night when I came in,  several hours after the kitchen closed, there would be a stack of dirty dishes, pots and kettles stacked in the sink. Chili and spaghetti sauce would be baked on, and sometimes there would be nothing I could do to get it off the pot. In that case I just threw the pot away. I was 20 years old, and throwing a pot away was the most adult decision I had made up to that point in my life.

After I finished washing the dishes, it was also my job to sweep and mop the bar floor as the place closed. 

The only good thing about the job was that I got to listen to the live entertainment while I worked. It was the days of the Austin country-rock scene in the late 1970s, and I listened to singer-songwriters like Joe Ely.

I got really tired of it after awhile, and the minimum wage at that time was something like $1.55. All things considered it wasn't worth it. I quit and got a job at the Dobie Center Schlotsky's, where I became the lunchtime rush cook for better pay -- and better food.

It was thirty years ago during my college days, but the bar is still there, I see from Google Street View and teh Intarwebs.