Libertas - you reminded me of a time when a company I was working for hired extensive temp labor. We used to have pools where we would bet on who would be the first of a group of short-term laborers to slink out to their cars and drive off.
Some would last until lunch, a few would go AWOL at the first break.
I made a lot of money off the laziness of others
Back in the 80s I used to work temp sometimes to fill in gaps between gigs. Sometimes I'd drive right from an after bar party to be at a temp gig at 6AM, hair all ratted out, stage makeup still applied. But I showed up and worked.
I only walked off the job two times, an the last time was the last time I ever worked temp.
The first time I walked off, I showed up at a new construction site to haul double-bound packs of 3/4" sheetrock from a flatbed into the building. There were supposed to be 3 other guys showing up to help me, and none of them came. I called the temp agency after about an hour of waiting, and they told me to go ahead and start working on my own. Having never hauled sheetrock before, I tried. I actually got one pack off the top of the stack, down off the flatbed to the ground, up the stairs, and into the building, without damaging it too much. But it took me a half hour. I took a look at the fully loaded flatbed and decided no way I could hope to do the job myself. I waited for about another half hour for someone else to show up. Finally, a Black kid showed up, took one look at the flatbed, asked me, "is it just me and you?" When I said yes, he said f*ck this", got in his car and drove off.
I called the temp agency and told them I was leaving. I never billed them, but of course, they failed a customer.
The second time I walked, I was working in a metal shop, just cleaning up scraps, putting plastic end-caps or O-rings on threaded pipes, that type of thing.
About the middle of the afternoon, they put me on a frikkin' band-saw, cutting pieces of scrap of all sizes down to roughly 12" pieces. As a guitarist, I was incredibly nervous. The supervisor kept harassing me to go faster, and faster WAS an option, because this band-saw was cutting through iron, steel, and aluminum scraps like butter. I picked up the pace, but one time, somehow the piece of metal got bound up, and it kicked my hand up against the blade. Barely a grazing wound, but still, it freaked the sh¡t out of me. All I could see was my fingers getting lopped off.
At the next break, I asked the supervisor if I could do something else, explained that the band-saw was freaking me out, and why. He just laughed at me, and he and a couple other guys rolled their eyes. He said that's what they had for me to do, and that's what they were paying the temp agency for. I told him I wouldn't work on the saw anymore, and he told me to leave, so I walked.
After those two experiences, which were pretty close together if I remember correctly, I never tried working for a temp agency again.