Something New

Sharon awoke abruptly to the sound of ‘Girls Like You’ by Maroon 5, one clumsy hand reaching up to slap the bedside table in the hopes of finding her buzzing phone in the dark. It took about five tries. Finally succeeding in silencing the catchy tune, she sat up slowly with a jaw-cracking yawn.

Mondays were the toughest.

She felt like some kind of automatic robot as she showered and brushed her teeth as usual. Facing herself naked in the bathroom brought on the usual routine of self-doubt mixed with small bursts of hope that maybe she might just pass as pretty. Beautiful was a reach (she always thought her eyes were too close together and her mouth was just a little too thin) but pretty she could get away with.

Dragging some mascara across her lashes and patting on some soft lipstick made her feel a little better and she gave herself a hesitant smile before heading to the kitchen.

What to have for lunch? She had a peanut and spinach salad yesterday but this morning she was feeling something else. Something new, something…exciting. She quickly summoned a recipe from the abundance of the internet and whipped up some rice noodles and half a pound of ground beef. Pouring a basic tomato sauce over the lot, she allowed a quiet satisfaction to seep through. Most of her lunches consisted of hastily thrown-together salads or a handful of granola bars; she wasn’t the most motivated of individuals. Today she had something special and delicious that didn’t take long at all to prepare. She collected it into a Tupperware container with a smile.

Work clothes were nothing special and as she dressed she found herself wishing she could throw on something a little more fun. She already had an atypical meal; might as well go on a roll. Coveralls and bland shirts day after day tended to get a little boring but she couldn’t really complain. The benefits were great and it paid the bills. She had also met her best friend Carol there, who was giving her a ride this morning.

Compromising, she threw on a simple purple shirt instead of her usual white one and kept the coveralls.

On their way to work, the pair’s favorite topic of conversation was men and relationships. They chatted about loves both hated and cherished, what type they preferred (Carol’s was the tall, tanned type, toned but not too toned), and of course, their exact opinions about size over function. This erupted into girlish giggling and they were both breathless by the time they stepped into their building.

“Meet you for break? I made pasta,” Sharon said as they were about to part ways. Carol pushed her glasses further up her nose and grinned.

“No wheat right?”

“You know it,” Sharon smiled before they bumped fists and departed down different hallways.

Grabbing her goggles, hair net, and face mask from her locker, Sharon made her way down to through the processing plant. Many smells assaulted her as she went along but she was used to them. A few other workers joined her, arriving for their shift as she was.

They walked as a group down a small hallway until they reached the main processing area, a huge warehouse filled with conveyor belts. Sighing in preparation for a long shift, she pressed headphone buds into her ears and cranked her tunes, choosing “I Like It” by Cardi B.

Joining the assembly line she stepped up in front of the conveyor that was already running and fully loaded.

Yeah baby, I like it like that

You gotta believe me when I tell you

I said I like it like that

The day-old chicks were packed wall-to-wall on each belt. Creamy yellow and tiny, they peered up at her and around curiously as they moved along the line. Looking more like soft balls of fluff rather than downy feathers, their numbers spanned in the tens of thousands. Barely able to move, many were piled on top of others with nowhere to go.

Now I like dollars, I like diamonds

I like stuntin’, I like shinin’

I like million dollar deals, where’s my pen?

Bitch, I’m signin’

Humming, Sharon spied those that were male and with a practiced hand began tossing them casually into a large whirring grinder that sat on the other side of the belt.

Diamond district in the Jag (I said I like it like that)

Certified, you know I’m gang (I said I like it like that)

Drop the top and blow the brains (I said I like it like that)

Oh he’s so handsome, what’s his name? (I said I like it like that)

Joining the dozens of other workers with her in the facility, she began her daily routine of slaughter. Roughly 130,000 animals were going to die today.

As easy as separating socks from the rest of the laundry, one after the other she threw them in. Still alive and breathing they were torn apart and ground up by the machine’s many cruel blades. If one were to look deeper into it they would see the smears of blood and feathers clinging to the moving parts. This has been the primary method of disposing of unwanted ‘product’ in the US for decades, with each year butchering over 7 billion unwanted chicks.

After about an hour Sharon’s eyes glazed over and she became less gentle. Grabbing wings and feet alike she lobbed them to their deaths, not caring if she broke their delicate bones in the process. It became a blur after a while, as had each day for over three years. Small black eyes and pink, peeping mouths would turn up to her right before she seized them only to disappear into a different mouth that gaped with churning metal teeth. The song drowned out the sounds of the machine and endless chirping.

Told that bitch I’m sorry though

’Bout my coins like Mario

Yeah they call me Cardi B

I run this shit like cardio

1:15, time for lunch. She was really looking forward to that pasta.

As she changed out of her safety equipment, she thought again about starting something new. The lunch and clothes were small things and welcomed to be sure, but perhaps a larger adjustment was in order…

Just not the job, though.