Oh, absolutely!
The boss had got the sack from Eastern for some fiddle or other and he absolutely hated anything to do with operating on the up-and-up. All I got was "You young guys!" (I was 32 or 33 at the time) whenever I would cite some rule or piece of conventional wisdom, such as no flying in IMC under VFR or "It is really not a good idea to fly through an area of imbedded thunderstorms without a weather radar."
He had a ragged fleet of Travel Airs, a Baron, an Aero Commander 500, a Cessna 402A (with its engines all out of whack since his wrench didn't have the tools to set up the fuel injection) and two Greasy Threes, one with Pratts and one with Wrights and both with serious cockroach infestations!
I got the feeling that this was a footrace between getting my hours and bucks up to get that ATP and getting my check cancelled by a mechanical or perhaps having either the FAA or the DEA or both come down on me like a load of Bricks. (Bet you didn't see that one coming!) I did 1200 hours in 11 months and then walked, got my ATP and went off to work in Africa for good money.
No question about it that a job like that will definitely take a lot of the gloss off aviation for you. For fun... glider flying, I guess and I still enjoy giving instruction but right seat in a DC-3, Fahgeddaboudit!
The guy offered me a free DC-3 type-rating if I stuck around but I didn't even bother to talk about it; that is how lousy an outfit it was. (That rumour a fellow pilot started that I was DEA might have had something to do with it too, since the Colombian Mafia didn't seem all that reasonable about such misunderstandings.) Of course the next low-timer walked right in the day I walked out.