VELOCITY - DEE JACOB [66]
“I’ll let you know whatever I can find out,” said Amy, then added in conclusion, “Well, I’m glad we figured out where all this inventory is probably coming from. But I should get back downtown. I’ve got a two o’clock with my new head of sales and marketing.”
“I’m glad you stopped by,” said Wayne, “but, hey, before you run off, how about a quick tour of some the LSS improvements we’ve made?”
“Sure, I have time for that, as long as I’m not keeping you from something urgent,” said Amy. “And, actually, I would like to run by you these numbers that Elaine showed me this morning – just so you know. Is there someplace nearby where we can talk in private?”
“Sure. After I give you the quick tour, there’s a little toolroom I’ve discovered that nobody uses. Yet another small example of the waste in this plant!”
The two of them continued through the plant, with Wayne pointing out some of the changes that Lean Six Sigma had brought about – or was in the process of trying to bring about. At one point Amy stopped and pointed to an enormous, ugly, cylindrical piece of equipment.
“Wait a minute,” she said. “Is that Godzilla?”
Wayne frowned.
“Um, yes. That is Godzilla.”
“I remember it now. I’ve seen it lots of times. I just didn’t know it had a nickname.”
“Murphy Maguire’s favorite obsession,” muttered Wayne.
“Why do you say that?”
“Sorry, never mind. This autoclave process is a real headache. I’d love to get rid of Godzilla if I could. But … we’re stuck with it.”
He led the way through the plant, and they soon arrived at the little toolroom at the end of the corridor that Wayne had discovered.
As they approached the toolroom, Amy noticed that in contrast to all the chemical and industrial smells throughout the plant, her nose detected a smoky, spicy scent, an aroma that was both pleasant and enticing. But from the far side of the toolroom door came an angry and loud voice.
“One full hour! An hour, Jayro! They got Godzilla sittin’ there, doin’ nothing! That is lost throughput, Jayro. And why? I’ll tell you why: they’ve taken out all the slack! And they think they can handle it with five percent buffers! Five percent? No way is that enough! It’s all a bunch o’ damnyankee nonsense! Balanced line? Balanced my butt!”
A lower, calmer, but unintelligible voice spoke from behind the door as Amy and Wayne hesitated outside.
“I’ve tried tellin’ him!” the angry voice resumed. “He won’t listen!”
Before Amy could stop him, Wayne had set his jaw and was pounding his knuckles on the door.
“What?!” shouted the angry voice.
Wayne turned the knob, as the door swung open, there was Murphy Maguire red-faced and glowering. With him of course was Jayro Pepps, who went slack jawed at the sight of the intruders. And between them was a table laden with a small feast – a black kettle of pulled pork, fluffy white buns, a plate of fried chicken, homemade coleslaw, fresh strawberry pie, and a Thermos jug of cold tea – all nearly untouched as yet given the distress of the moment.
“What the hell is going on in here?” Wayne demanded.
“Lunch!” shouted Murphy. “What’s it look like?!”
A brief silence of outrage and fuming ensued. And to fill the silence, an embarrassed Jayro Pepps, whose expression was not unlike a deer caught in the headlights, said to Amy:
“Would you care for a pulled-pork sandwich, Miz Cieolara?”
“Um, no, but thank you. Everything looks and smells very good!”
“I think you have some explaining to do!” Wayne shot at Murphy.
Amy promptly inserted herself between the two, put a hand on Wayne’s chest, and pushed him gently back toward the door.
“Excuse us,” she said. “We didn’t mean to intrude. We’ll talk later.”
And she steered Wayne Reese out of the toolroom and closed the door behind her.
“You see what I’m up against?” Wayne asked rhetorically as they walked back through the plant.
“Wayne, what is going on between the two of you?” asked Amy.
“The simple answer? I think it’s called a turf war – on his part, not mine.”
Amy considered this, but then said, “Wayne, he was really angry. What he said sounded