The Production Managers Meeting

While I'm certain most manufacturing plants have the ritual of the 'Production Managers Meeting', I have my sincere doubts that any other manufacturing plant would allow the types of meetings that take place within my own manufacturing plant.

Much like Vegas, the topics and conversations that take place within those 4 walls of that conference room stay within those 4 walls of that conference room. To be found guilty of leaking any information to the production floor, a cardinal sin to production managers around the world, could mean excommunication from the meeting, and thereby, the end of the best 45 minutes of your entire work day.

It is in the Production Managers Meeting that you truly learn what your fellow coworkers are really like. This is where you learn that Ted, the obsessive compulsive stick by the documentation and follow every rule stick in the mud, has no qualms about using the word cunt or demonstrating with his Air Force hat exactly why they call those slice hats military men wear a Cunt Cap. This is also where you learn that Mr. Brownstar, a 50 something man whose pathetically dyed comb over begins at the back of his neck and wraps around from side to side like a Roman head accessory, spent his misguided youth, growing up in the inner city, beating dead dogs found in the alley with golf clubs and smelling his drunk uncles' breath on Sunday mornings when they would all meet up after church.

As with any other 'elite group', there are certain measures that must first take place before the induction of anyone new to the group. Are they trustworthy? Will we be able to discuss the topics we tend to discuss on a daily basis without the risk of finding ourselves in HR, or, much worse, without a job? Will they, in turn, spill their guts like the rest of us?

A process of evaluation takes place whenever a new member joins the Production Managers meeting. It begins with surveillance. We watch, observe from a distance, listen, look for any visible signs that our trusted bond has been broken.

While The New Guy has managed to stir up controversy and generally caused an up rise in the meeting, it has yet been determined if his stories and contributions would make him a worth while member of the group. The latter being the most crucial step in becoming a member of 'the group'. If, after the process of evaluation has taken place, it is decided The New Guy is either too boring or untrustworthy, 'the group' will systematically begin to inch him out. So subtle at first, he would have no clue as to what was actually transpiring. It would first be suggested that he wasn't really needed at the meetings, he is such a busy man, everyone would completely understand if he decided not to attend regularly. Soon the day would come where he begun to be accidentally left out of the impromptu meetings that occur randomly throughout the day. Eventually, his presence would simply disappear, inched out over the course of a few weeks of premeditated seclusion.

When that day comes, he will have had no idea he was ever part of 'the group'.

After today, however, I'm not so sure how easy the transition of phasing out The New Guy will be. I feel as though he has been permanently fused to my hip.

Out of nowhere, he appeared at my desk this morning to talk about last night's episode of 'Desperate Housewives'. Before I knew it, it was time to leave for the production managers meeting and he was still clutching on to me like I was the last human on earth.

"I've gotta get a pop before the meeting," I mention, thinking possibly I could ditch him at the conference room and head to the lunch room alone. No such luck, The New Guy decides he needs a pop as well, and heads down to the lunch room with me.

We arrive at the lunch room only to find GQ exiting the lunch room, staring right in our direction. With a skeptical look on his face, he says to me "What are you doing here, aren't you supposed to be in your meeting?" His eyes moved shiftily back and forth between The New Guy and myself.

"Yeah, I've gotta get a pop before I go," I replied, hurrying into the lunch room hoping to ditch my hitch hiker.

I have come to the secret conclusion that GQ has developed a crush on The New Guy. In the past, I have always gotten along well with GQ, but lately, he has been temperamental and moody, shooting scathing looks and completely dismissing those individuals who happen to be occupying The New Guy's attention.

Myself included.

The New Guy, however, was not to be ditched. Again I found myself walking into the conference room and sitting directly to the right of the new guy, much to Mr. Brownstar's disappointment.

In the words of The New Guy as Mr. Brownstar had commented on his choice of seating, "You snooze, you loose."