When a Battery Hen can't produce a decent egg

Some of you know that out of desperation I've had to take on some work that produces a desire to cluck like a hen. This is work I did for years, years ago. Years ago it suited me and meant I could be a little more flexibe. After I left it though I made a promise to myself never to do it again. Sometimes though promises have to be broken. When there's baby chickens to feed and there's no good free range grazing ground then mother hen must go to the factory. The factory has walls lined with cubicles and telephones and computers and mother hen must take her seat in one of these cubicles and don the headset and dial random telephone numbers and cluck politely while she requests that people interrupt their meal time to answer some ridiculous questions about toilet paper. This kind of mass egg production pays reasonably well but is about as exciting as a rerun of Everybody Loves Raymond.

The hens are taken from their cubicle occasionally to be given a statistical run down of their egg production during that shift. These little meetings with the head rooster are supposedly used to provide feedback and offer support and advice on how you can produce more eggs. The client pays a lot of money for the egg production apparently and if you produce less than ten eggs an hour you might need to be retrained on how to lay more productively.

I might not be so cynical about my new position as mass egg producer if I felt that my previous skills in egg production hadn't been overlooked. But alas they were. I have had to endure endless hours of unpaid training for a job I can do with my hands tied behind my back. I've been the head rooster who gives the statistical run downs but that apparently counts for nothing. I'm just hoping that having to mass produce is only a temporary assignment. At least battery hens are allowed to have water at their desk.