The Goal

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the slower processing, we don't need the heat-treat . Which means we can take about twenty percent of the current load off the furnaces."

"Sounds fantastic," I tell him. "What about getting it ap- proved by engineering?"

"That's the beauty of it," says Bob. "We were the ones who initiated the change five years ago."

"So if it was our option to begin with," I say, "we can change it back any time we want."

"Right! We don't need to get an engineering change order, because we already have an approved procedure on the books," says Bob.

He leaves shortly with my blessing to implement the change as soon as possible. I sit there marveling that we're going to reduce the efficiency of some operations and make the entire plant more productive. They'd never believe it on the fifteenth floor.

It's a Friday afternoon. Out in the parking lot, the people on first shift are getting into their cars to go home. There is the usual congestion at the gate. I'm in my office-minding my own busi- ness-when suddenly, from through the half-open door... BAM!

Something ricochets off the ceiling tiles. I jump to my feet, check myself for wounds and, finding none, search the carpet for the offending missile. It's a champagne cork.

There is laughing outside my door. In the next instant, it seems as though everyone is in my office. There is Stacey, Bob Donovan (who holds the bottle from which the cork came), Ralph, Fran, a couple of the secretaries, and a swarm of other people-even Lou joins us. Fran hands me one of the styrofoam coffee cups she's dispensing to everyone. Bob fills it from the bottle.

"What's this all about?" I ask.

"I'll tell you in the toast I'm g ing to make as soon as every- one has something to swallow," says Bob.

More bottles are opened-there is a case of this stuff-and when all the cups are filled, Bob lifts his own.

"Here's to a new plant record in shipments of product," he says. "Lou went through the records for us and discovered that until now the best this place has ever done in a month was thirty- one orders shipped at value of about two million dollars. This month we topped that. We shipped fifty-seven customer orders with a value of... well, in round numbers, we'll call it a cool three million."

"Not only did we ship more product," says Stacey, "but, hav- ing just calculated our inventory levels, I am pleased to report that between last month and now, we've had a twelve percent net decline in work-in-process inventory."

"Well, then, let's drink to making money!" I say.

And we do.

"Mmmmm... industrial strength champagne," says Stacey.

"Very distinctive," says Ralph to Bob. "Did you pick this out yourself?"