Page 156 - Just Deserts

Scrubbers

“I’ll show you around the warehouse later,” said Molly Caudell,
day supervisor of shipping and receiving systems control at 3F’s
monstrous Massachusetts facility. “At least, I’ll show you where the
ladies’ rooms are—and let me tell you, they’re few and far between in
this company.”
This intimacy brought a laugh from the new employee, as it was
intended to do. Solidarity with the sisterhood of office workers had
to be inculcated immediately, lest the probationer mistakenly identify
her own interest with that of male middle management. There would
be plenty of opportunities in the coffee room to relate cautionary
tales and the unofficial rules of mutual protection; for now, Ms.
Caudell’s task was to get the replacement traffic controller up to
speed and producing.
Althea N. Cort lingered by the window overlooking the warehouse
floor a moment longer. The view, to a newcomer, was impressive: a
fluorescent-lit flattened beehive in which workers in orange coveralls
swarmed over the rectilinear cells of a computer-organized system of
bins and bays, moving vast quantities of material with forklifts and
small tractors. Framingham Furnace and Fabrication, like many
diversified corporations, was in the process of consolidating its
operations wherever possible; in this case it meant eliminating
redundant real estate and personnel in the area of inventory control.
This million-and-a-half square foot building now functioned as the
shipper and receiver of raw materials and finished goods for at least a
dozen 3F subsidiaries. An endless line of eighteen-wheelers backed
cautiously into a long row of cargo bays around the clock, loading
and unloading pallets of petrochemical pellets, barrels of industrial
solvent and bales of synthetic fiber.
“Come on,” said Molly. “I’ll introduce you to your work station.”
She led Althea to an unoccupied desk, one among many separated by
low partitions; the others were occupied by an assortment of women,
all with headsets, all busily interacting with their video display
terminals. “You’re familiar with the ICS-2000?”
Althea’s resume indicated three years’ experience with the system
at an obscure company on the West Coast; Molly knew that, but she
155