My younger brother, the hulking high school football player, got a summer job at a department store ($1.47/hour in 1966), polishing their fine silver. All his finely-tuned muscles did him little good, sitting hunched over at the showroom counter in his cute smock, rubbing tiny spoons. Of course, my duty was to stop by periodically to harass him--which you can be sure I carried out faithfully.
So, there's your answer, John.