You're Fired!

I have had some unusual jobs.  I worked as a nurse's aide on a psych floor and can snap a drawsheet and do a hospital corner with the best of them.  I sold knives door to door and am a master at getting strangers to tell me about their neighbors. I worked in the garment industry in New York as a childrenswear designer and traveled to factories in the backwoods of Kentucky.  I worked for a large weight loss organization and told you how to manage your weight and hence your life. I told women whether they were summer, spring, fall, or winter and which eyeshadow best complimented their unique coloring.  I ran a restaurant and could call every member of the town's city council by their first name when I wasn't telling drunk chefs to take the night off or unclogging the toilets.
I counted heads for the census and once again got strangers to tell me about their neighbors. I now work as a property manager and hear everyone's stories, from the tenants to the owners to the vendors.
I've only been fired from one job, though.  In high school my sister hired me to iron her nurse's uniforms.  That employment was terminated when one uniform had the extra imprint of a delicate brown tinged iron.  I thought it added to the whole look but my employer disagreed.