My first job

There were not a lot of job opportunities in the small town where I grew up in Utah. The largest business was a slaughterhouse on the edge of town. It employed over three hundred people. When I could finally work, I applied for a job there and got it, working on the assembly line slicing huge shanks that rolled by on a conveyor belt. My first day was also my last. Standing there, getting squirted with blood all over this white apron, a knife in my hand and the loud grinding sounds of the factory punctuated with the squeals of dying animals was more than I could take. I didn't even make it through the first shift. The manager was nice and offered to pay me a day's prorated pay under the table...