To most grocery shoppers, rotisserie chickens look like a mouth-watering and easy option for dinner. But whenever I pass by the rotisserie case in a supermarket, I see chicken carcasses piled up in the trash, their once glistening juices congealing into a slimy jelly.

It all started when I was working as a cashier in a chain supermarket. One day, I was chatting with a colleague about the behind-the-scenes secrets that shoppers didn't see. The deli employee said, "Last night we tossed out about sixteen birds." He explained that managers wanted the rotisserie chicken case to be full at all times because a full case looked appetizing, while a half empty one looked sad. Keeping the case full was an all-day affair. Workers arrived before dawn to season and roast dozens of birds. (One employee burned his arm while maneuvering chickens into the oven. He quit soon after.)

. . .

On the job, signs of employee hunger were hard to miss. One colleague told me that, at her previous job, she had marked down the price of some nearly expired ground beef that was about to be thrown in the trash. She had wanted to take the meat home to her family. But when managers found out what she did, they fired her. Another coworker admitted to spending her days off at the plasma clinic to earn money for groceries.

It's time that we make the connection between labor conditions in the retail industry and food waste in stores. Companies that don't pay a living wage can use the money they save to over-stock shelves. This appearance of abundance disguises the troubling reality that lush displays are purchased at the cost of workers' insecurity. If employers were forced to raise pay and improve conditions, they would have to rethink a business model that justifies food waste. I haven't worked in a store for years. But every time I shop for groceries, I can't help but think of the workers who seasoned, cooked, and stocked a supermarket delicacy knowing full well that it might end up in the trash.