Okay, almost two years ago, I wrote the following:
That was in a report I wrote and gave to the Owner in what was obviously a vain effort to get the company to do something sensible.
On Tuesday of this week, I walk into the shop, and spot a red bucket in one corner of the shop with a “Non-Conforming Material” sticker on the side of it. As the Mold Maker and I are looking at it, Braaaad comes in and hands us a sheet of paper, explaining the purpose of the red bucket. Braaaad then casually comments that when the folks from Honda were touring the plant last week, they noticed that we didn’t have any and that they suggested we get some so that we wouldn’t get scrap mixed in with good parts.
Of course, we always do, because that’s proceedure! The last step before the parts are boxed up to be shipped, One Eyed Jack inspects the parts to make sure they look right. Occassionally, One Eye will actually check the parts with a gauge. If anyone discovers a bad part before they get to shipping, they have one of two choices. They can either walk the parts to the shipping department and put them on the scrap table, or they can dump them in the bin with the rest of the good parts. Guess which one they pick? :rolleyes:
So, I don’t know if was the smart ass in me coming out or not, but after Braaaad told us why we were now going to be using “non-conforming material” buckets (nevermind that “non-conforming material” is pretty much meaningless, since it can be applied to a raw casting in comparison to a finished part, whereas “scrap” clearly defines a part which can only be one thing), I pointed out to Braaaad that I had originally suggested the idea two years ago.
Braaaad’s response was, “Well, some times it takes two years for a good idea to get implimented around here.” I was tempted, but managed to refrain from pointing out that was exactly how long an elephant is pregnant.
Now, today, I’m actually running a non-Honda job (but still one which if they knew what the fuck they were doing, I wouldn’t have to machine at all) and Clayd’oh and Braaaad are checking a prototype part that we’ve been trying to get right for about a year now. Mind you, this is a military part, so the fact that we keep fucking up a military part means that we’re screwing the poor schmucks on the front line. You know, the very ones the Owner has said that he’s trying to help by putting all military parts as priority items. (Ask me when the last time I machined a military part was. Go on. Ask) My head’s stopped up, so mercifully, I can’t hear the entire conversation between Braaaad and Clayd’oh, but even so I can grok enough of it to realize that either one of them has much of a clue as to what it is that they’re talking about.
That’s when everything finally clicked for me, and I realized what it is that I need to do to make whatever time I have left there bearable. I’m going to have business cards printed up stating that I am a consultant. Then, whenever anyone there asks me for advice about how we should do something, I’m going to hand them my card and say, “My initial consultation fee is $500 if you take my advice, $1,000 if you don’t.” If, by some fluke, they actually decide to take me up on that (and, of course, I’ll demand payment in advance), I’m going to hand them a contract to sign which says, in effect, that not only to I have the right to treat them like the bitch they are, but that they have no choice to come back to me and demand that I do it again. Finally, there will be a clause in the contract which states that if they say something I find mindboggingly stupid, I have the right to beat them like a dog. 
And, of course, I have a plan for if they actually do sign the contract and pay me $500. Instead of listening to their question and then giving them an answer, I’ll simply hand them another copy of my report and tell them that the answer’s in there.
