🥇Corporate Workshop

Two months of waiting. At numerous requests. From the heart. In honor of the holiday. In the best traditions.

— So... Let's go over it again, what's the point?

Sergey leisurely took a drag from the cigarette and, with a mischievous smile, glanced at Galina.

— Oh, it's a shame we can't take you with us – they already know you as the quality director. The experiment won't work.

— What experiment?

— I want to show how technological discipline is actually performed. And what the quality of parts is at intermediate operations.

— And that... Your friend, what for?

— Tolyan? By the way, Tolyan, thanks again for coming so quickly. Any issues at work?

— No. – muttered the guy in glasses with a bluish stubble on his face. – I'm a freelancer, I don't have work. Unlike you.

— Allow me to introduce, Galina. This is Tolyan. We studied together and did our internship at the factory. We were working on product quality. But I was just skimming the surface. Tolyan knows his stuff.

— Nice to meet you. – Galina nodded. – What's next, Sergey?

— We'll finish smoking now and go to the shop. As for you... I don't know... The main thing is not to linger here. Sit in a corner or go to the office. Otherwise, they'll figure out that something's going on.

— Aren't they going to figure it out because of your presence?

— No. We're like students. We came to measure parts, collect data for our thesis. There are always people like that around, so it’s nothing new.

— Aren't you afraid? – Galina asked seriously.

— Afraid of whom? – Sergey coughed. – Or what?

— Well... I don't know.

— I don't know either. It's clear it's not so scary when they know your position. They see the epaulettes and avoid you. But I think everything will be fine. Tolyan and I are seasoned pros.

— Well, as you say... — Galina shrugged. – Alright, I'll sit at the plant management in the meeting room. Call if anything.

— Alright. – Sergey nodded, extinguished his cigarette, and resolutely headed toward the shop.

— So, just like the good old times? – Tolyan smiled as he opened the heavy shop door.

— Just hope it’s not like last time... — Sergey replied with a sad smile.

And they moved through the shop. Sergey had chosen the research subject in advance, but due to his unfamiliarity with the layout of the machines, they had to wander a bit. No one paid attention to them, no one offered help – after all, who knows what kind of fools wander through the shop.

Finally, the required section was found. It consisted of five similar grinding machines, quite old, produced back in the USSR days. The area was fairly enclosed, with the machines arranged in a circle, and the appearance of the 'students' did not go unnoticed – the workers began to glance at the guests sideways.

Sergey, not wasting any time, immediately approached the container with the parts processed on one of the machines. He took one out, measured it. Then the second, third, fourth...

— Let's gather about a hundred. – said Tolyan. – Better to do it all at once, right off the machine.

— Why do it all at once?

— Who knows, maybe we'll catch some trend. The machine is a grinder, the wheel should wear down quickly. If the guy messes up the adjustment in a timely manner, there will be a clear trend of increasing size.

— Man, Tolyan. – Sergey dramatically shook his friend's hand. – How do you remember all this crap? I bet you can name all five stability criteria by Shukhart without stuttering?

— Actually, there are seven. – Like a true nerd, Tolyan adjusted his glasses with his index finger. – And you never stopped being a novice.

— Okay… — waved his hand Sergey. – Let's start sampling.

They approached the nearest machine. Sergey hesitated a little, deciding whether to ask the worker to hand over the processed parts or to fish them out of the container. He decided to address the worker.

— Excuse me! – Sergey approached the man closely. – Can you hand over the parts after processing? We will measure them.

— And who are you guys? – the worker asked grumpily.

— We are students, on an internship. Your engineer asked us to measure the parts.

— Why?

— I don't know? Maybe he doesn't want to deal with us, so he sent us. We are from a technical school.

— You seem a bit too old for a technical school… — the worker frowned.

— Yeah, we drink a lot, so we've aged a bit. So, will you give us the parts?

— Alright. – the worker nodded after a few seconds of thought.

Things went smoother after that. Sergey took a part, measured it with a caliper, told Tolyan the size, and he recorded it, placing the part in a box. The first few parts turned out to be defective. After each measurement, Sergey and Tolyan exchanged smiles like a shy couple on their first date, yet neither dared to speak up.

— This... — Sergey finally asked. – It seems your parts are out of tolerance.

— What? – The worker turned to Sergey and glared at him. – What do you mean, what allowance?

— Here it is. – Sergey pulled a rolled-up piece of paper from his pocket, unfolded it, and pointed at the drawing. – Look at the required size and the tolerance field here.

— You’ll be the one going into the field now. – The worker ignored the paper entirely. – Get the hell out of here!

— Come on, what are you… — Sergey stepped back, tripped over Tolyan's leg, and almost fell. – If you don't want to, fine… Tolyan, let’s go to another machine.

The worker took a couple more steps toward him but, seeing that the students had retreated, turned proudly and continued working. Sergey looked around, searching for his next target, and stopped at a lanky man with a rather intelligent appearance.

— Excuse me! – Sergey addressed another worker. – May we measure your parts?

— Yes, of course. – He smiled politely. – Is it for research? Or are you writing a thesis?

— A thesis, yes. – Sergey nodded. – You know, give us the processed parts, we will measure them right away.

— Sure. – The worker nodded and returned to the machine.

This time, all parts were within tolerance. Sergey noticed neither trends nor one-off deviations. When he had a hundred parts, he even started to get bored.

— Can you tell me why your parts are free of defects? – Sergey asked the worker.

— What do you mean? – He smiled. – Shouldn’t they be defective?

— Well… We just measured at your colleague's station, and all theirs were out of tolerance.

— I don’t know. – The worker shrugged. – I’m responsible for my work; the supervision is for someone else. Can I help you with anything else?

— No, thanks!

Sergey and Tolyan stepped into the center of the area and began looking around, deciding what to do next.

— We need to figure this out. – Tolyan began. – About that brash one over there. He’s clearly violating the technology.

— If he even knows anything about it.

— If he even knows the word. – Tolyan added. – Come on, I don't know… Should we observe him or something…

— Let’s do that. So, what’s in the paper…

Sergey pulled out the paper again, looked at it from both sides, and put it back in his pocket.

— Here, the operations are not detailed. Usually, it indicates how often to take measurements and adjust the grinding wheel.

— He doesn't measure anything at all, – replied Tolyan. – Apparently, he doesn't have any measuring tools.

— How is that possible? – smirked Sergey. – His eyes are enough. Well, for some guys...

— Okay, that's just idle talk. – Tolyan said seriously. – I'm only here for a day; let's get to work. So, shall we go to the technician?

— Nah, I don't want to. Besides, he'll just... Sabotage it. He'll say we need to make a request somewhere, to the archive or something… How about we ask that polite guy over there?

— Let's do it. – Tolyan nodded and moved towards the worker.

— Excuse me, can we bother you one more time? – Sergey addressed him.

— Yes, what is it? – the worker's voice hinted at annoyance.

— Um... You see, it seems you make the best parts. I assume you follow the requirements of the technology. We have a problem here – we didn’t bring those requirements and can’t check how others are adhering to them. Can you help us?

— Help prove that my colleagues are slacking off? – the worker smiled.

— Um... No, of course not. It’s just...

— I get it. Let’s do this. – the worker cautiously glanced around, and Sergey instinctively did the same, noticing the unfriendly glares from his colleagues. – You go out for a smoke, and I’ll join you in about five minutes. Sound good?

— Wow, a secret meeting. – a strange spark lit up in Sergey’s eyes. – Sure, let’s do it!

— So, Tolyan, shall we go smoke? – Sergey said loudly. – Nothing makes sense here anyway.

Tolyan silently nodded, placed the papers with the measurements on a large container of parts, and the friends headed to the exit of the workshop, opposite to the one they entered. Behind the workshop gates was a dead end – about ten meters away, there was a fence, and the area was cluttered with rusty metal structures and crumbling concrete blocks. To the right of the door was a smoking area – several wooden benches, traditionally blackened by oily work uniforms, a couple of trash cans, and a small awning, clearly made by the workers themselves.

With nothing better to do, Sergey sat down and lit a cigarette. On a nearby bench sat two workers. Before the 'students' arrived, they were animatedly arguing about something, then fell silent, but a couple of minutes later, sensing the visitors were harmless, they resumed. It seemed to be something about the 'Ural' and 'Druzhba' chainsaws.

Five minutes later, when the long-awaited worker arrived, the chainsaw enthusiasts had already left, and it was possible to have a quiet conversation.

— Guys, let me put it this way. – The worker began without hesitation. – Our site, to be honest, is a complete mess. You asked about the technology – if the technician remembers it, God bless. Not to mention the quality control, since we're talking about measurements and adjusting the circles. The part has been produced for a long time – even before our factory existed, everything was approved at a large automotive plant. And ours simply bought the decommissioned machines and do the same thing.

— So the problem is the old machines? – Tolyan asked.

— Well… Formally – yes, they are old. On the other hand, because of their age, they are very simple in design. Well, you saw it yourselves. So, it's more about how to work with the machine, rather than the machine itself.

— So how do you manage to avoid defects? – Sergey asked.

— Barely, to be honest. – The worker smiled sadly. – We measure with calipers, you know what that is?

Tolyan and Sergey nodded.

— Well, that's it. All the information that the caliper gives – is the part within the tolerance field or not. That is, if a disc comes that wears out faster than usual, I will only find out that the size has shifted after producing a defective part. Fortunately, it usually shifts positively, and after adjusting the circle, I can process that part again. So, roughly speaking, I measure more often; as soon as the size shifts, I stop, start adjusting, and redo it.

— Do you measure every part? – Tolyan squinted. – That is, not according to technology? There surely it's every ten pieces.

— Fifteen, if I remember correctly. – The worker corrected himself. – But the discs wear down faster, like sand. So I have my own technique. Although, it's more… for conscience's sake, if you will… Or to cover myself – you never know, maybe someone like you would come for an inspection. I heard the new quality director is a tough lady, and she plans to put things in order. And our production manager has been missing for two days.

— And how do your colleagues regard your… approach to the task? – Sergey asked.

— Well, you know... They laugh. They know everyone couldn't care less about quality. We're just doing an intermediate operation, then they wrap up with a response. And when it doesn’t fit – they push harder, and it works out. Or file it down. They won’t take it back – it’s all theirs. And what happens to the customers – who cares? Just another bolt in some bucket.

— Have you tried showing your work, the results, to anyone else?

— I’ve tried, of course... I tried with the guys – they laughed. We weren't really friendly to begin with, and now it's even worse... I tried with the foreman – he actually supported me, went with me to the technologists and designers. They didn’t let me into the office, he went in alone, came out looking gloomier than a thundercloud after about five minutes, and took it out on me. I figured they gave him a hard time. Well, for the initiative, you know. And I don’t think I’ve gone to anyone else... Honestly, I can’t remember.

— So what to do... — Sergei pondered aloud.

— Am I still needed? – asked the worker – Because I have two hundred more parts to do before I can head home. Summer, gardening.

— Yes, of course, thank you very much! – Sergei shook the worker's hand with respect and joy. – What’s your name?

— No, let's skip that. – the worker smiled. – My job is small. If you want to find me, you know where to look.

— So what’s the deal, Tolyan? – Sergei asked when the worker went back to the shop. – It turns out to be total control? Violating principles and standards?

— No. The standards don’t matter at all. The main thing is the Deming cycle. If there’s an action that brings quality to an acceptable level and is cost-effective, it should become part of the process. We should also check the stability.

— Yes, we need to. – Sergei got up from the bench and resolutely strode towards the gates. – Something tells me the stability will be very good. And his manual interventions in the process seem more like ordinary than special causes of variation.

When they reached the site, the guys were quite surprised – the things left on the container had gone missing. The selected parts, measurement results, and the handle were gone. Only the lever hook remained – apparently, they were afraid to take it, it’s quite an expensive item.

Sergey looked around but noticed nothing of particular interest. All the workers were unresponsive to the presence of outsiders, simply continuing with their tasks. Tolyan started to walk around the container, peeking into hidden corners, but Sergey stopped him—there was no need to embarrass himself.

— Tolyan, let’s do this. – Sergey said loudly. – We’ll go get some new papers, as someone has evidently stolen ours—probably because they have no toilet paper of their own. And they grow hands out of their backsides if they can just take a hundred parts without knowing how to use them. At least they didn’t take the bracket—clearly, their brain couldn’t grasp that a bracket could be slipped away for a couple of bucks. What kind of nerd is this who…

At that moment, Sergey was interrupted because a young worker rushed towards him—almost bald, with a tanned face now a shade of gray, bearing the unmistakable stamp of a thug.

— Hey, you! – he pointed a finger at Sergey. – What, you planning to measure something?

— Yeah. – Sergey nodded.

— What, maybe you want to measure me too?

— I’ll measure you, don’t worry. Go back to work—what are you standing around for, creep?

— So what, let’s do it right now. Measure me.

— I need to go get the paper; there’s nowhere to write it down.

— No need to, just remember it. Measure. – and the thug made a strange gesture with his waist, as if inviting Sergey to engage in an intimate act.

— Uhh… What are you suggesting to measure?

— Well, figure it out. – the guy repeated his gesture.

— Are you sure? – Sergey began to speak a bit louder so everyone could hear.

— What’s it to me. – the thug continued. – Come on, don’t back down.

— Do you know what a lever clamp is? – Sergey could no longer hold back his smile.

— Well, there it is. – a shadow of worry crossed the guy's face. – What’s there to know? Like a caliper, just trickier.

— Do you know what the measurement range is for this specific clamp?

— What?

— That’s right, deer. One and a half centimeters, you fool. Come on, take off your stinky pants, let’s see what you wanted to show. I'm really curious—what do you have that would fit in one and a half centimeters? Some bugs, perhaps…

The thug appeared slightly flustered and took a step back. He began looking around at his colleagues and saw smirks on their faces—even from those who had sent the 'students' to the fields. His face quickly began to redden, and his eyes filled with blood. Sergey, just to be safe, took a step to the left so there were no dangerous parts behind him.

— Oh you bastard… — the gopnik muttered through clenched teeth and lunged at Sergey.

He moved very quickly – apparently, his experience from dealing the first blow was at play. Sergey managed to lean slightly and raise his arm, and the strike hit his forearm. The second blow aimed at his gut also missed, as it didn’t catch him by surprise. Sergey wasn’t a martial arts master, so he came up with no better idea than to bring his opponent into a clinch.

At that moment, Tolyan arrived, grabbed the bully's arms, and for a few seconds they stood like that. Sergey noticed that out of all the workers, only their new friend took a couple of steps towards the fight, but apparently he didn’t dare to intervene.

— So, cooled off? – Sergey asked quietly, looking at the gopnik's close red face. – Can I let you go? Shall we shake hands?

— Let’s shake hands. – surprisingly easily agreed the gopnik.

First, Tolyan released the guy's hands, then Sergey, slowly, unclenched his clinch. The gopnik stepped back a couple of paces, stretched his palms, cracked his neck, and extended his hand to Sergey.

Sergey let out a relieved sigh to himself and reached out his hand in response. For a brief moment, he stopped looking at the gopnik, focusing on his hand and…

Received a good hook to the head. He immediately staggered, began to sink down, but Tolyan managed to catch him. Without thinking, the gopnik took off.

— Cool. – Sergey smiled as he stood up. – I think I’ll stick around here. Let’s go to Marina.

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