One time I took this job at an edit post for some Discovery Channel bureau next to the Aquarium in Monterey Bay. They bought an old cannery right next to Doc Rickett's real labrotory that Steinbeck writes about in 'Cannery Row.' Beautiful place to work but the job sucked rhino. I had to scrape one hundred year old fish scales off of the walls so they could move edit bays into that giant cement walled room where the souls of many dead fish still dwell. It was creepy, smelly, old fish gut dust going into my lungs... I'd use water to loosen up the crusty guts and it would turn into a dead fish paste. They kept telling me that I was paying my dues and that they'd never forget my efforts when they needed a new camera man. They never called me back, those fu*ks, and I still think of all those lost dead fish souls.