Then the supervisor moved us to a new aisle. We had been there 10 hours. “Before you begin,” the soup said, “I want to tell you something. Each tray of this type of mail must be stuck in 23 minutes. That’s the production schedule. Now, just for fun, let’s see if each of us can meet the production schedule! Now, one, two, three … GO!” What the hell is this? I thought. I’m tired.
