I don't know the girl's name, I can only describe her: Kazakh, 30+ years old, plump, always unhappy with something, resembles a salesman from a Soviet store. I asked for the package, as if I had torn it off from my heart. The question is answered with a pause, perhaps under some kind of medication. I hit her twice, and I'm in a bad mood for the whole day. Everything is fine on other shifts.