Shen

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“I said, What happened to ‘Hello, how may I help you?’” the guy repeats, louder. My smile tightens. Empathy’s well and good. But again, I get that feeling of total certainty: if I force myself to say “Hello, how may I help you?” to this man, a sliver of my soul will be tarnished in a way I’m not sure is reversible.
On the Clock: What Low-Wage Work Did to Me and How It Drives America Insane
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