Jo

I had a job in a "health food" deli (meat wasn't my responsibility). A
woman came up to the counter and said, "Your case is empty, do you have any
whole chickens in the back?"

"Wow, the meat person isn't here right now. uh, hmmm. Let me go check." (I
knew there was a box of dead chickens in the back. I just bought myself
some time to think about whether I was willing to deal with them. I decided
it might teach me something.

I went into the walk-in cooler where the box of dead chickens was and
lifted the lid. There tightly crammed into the box was two rows of small
headless corpses all lined up in this box. My mind went to the holocaust. I
burst into tears. (I think I hadn't cried in a year before that). I pulled
one of the bodies out of the ice, and went slowly back to the deli. I
clumsily mummified the body in plastic and put it on the scale to print a
price tag. The whole thing was just awful. I made no attempt to hide my
"post cry" face. The woman briskly snatched the chicken and without a word
hustled up to the checkout.

I cried because their death had become such a cartoon. Like, "TRY SOME
TASTE TEMPTING CHICKEN DISHES TONIGHT". This woman, and the people who
packaged these dead chickens didn't really want to think about what
happened. That these creatures spent their entire existance suffering, lost
their family, lost their sanity and then as the big topper, got
decapitated, mechanically plucked and then sold, by the pound to a "health
food store".

I don't begrudge this woman her chicken dinner. She may have no qualms
about slaughtering that bird herself so she can try a new recipe. We all
choose what we pay attention to and what we ignore.

jon