Goldratt and dressing


    - And you, Brut ... - Sergey smiled.

    - What do you want? - sharply asked Galina. - Come on, we have a meeting now.

    - And what is this, not a meeting? Stirlitz went at the wrong time?

    - What Stirlitz ... Come on, say what you wanted, we have no time.

    Sergey talked to Galina, and looked at Stas. He unfolded a piece of paper with a printed task, laid it on the table.

    - Why, discuss the problem. You write here ...

    - Then we will discuss, come in two hours. There the autosourcers arrived, after ten minutes of the meeting, we need to prepare.

    - What kind of outsourcers? Are we being fired? All over tale?

    - Listen, I have no time to chew your snot. We will introduce the theory of constraints, Stas will be engaged in automation. Everything?

    - Not. - Sergey shook his head. - What is the theory of restrictions?

    - Pancake. - Galina drawled. - Are you adequate or not? I speak Russian to you - there is no time! Or in the library, take a book and read what the theory of restrictions is. I passed her in the morning, hurry up, until someone else took it. Now this is a fashionable topic.

    - Why Stas?

    - So you do a project with us, you have no time, our great and almighty one.

    - Where am I to you ...

    - So! - cried Galina. - You got it already! Get out of the office.

    Sergey unhurriedly took a piece of paper from the table, carefully folded it up, and imposingly left the office. He reached his place, flopped down on a chair, began to think.

    All sorts of crap went to my head. What is the theory of restrictions? Why do we need outsourcers? The company, of course, was sometimes addicted to any heresy, invited consultants to conduct seminars, or never implemented them by the implementation projects before.

    What can this mean? And some strange coincidences. Sergey makes the project of the year, the owner is dissatisfied with the process, someone merges information on the progress of work, and then, as if by magic, there are some outsourcers with some sort of theory of restrictions.

    Well, suppose who merges information - is understandable. Stas, who else. Or not? Yes, he, no one else. Okay, then we'll figure this guy out. While it is necessary to understand that the theory of restrictions.

    Sergey resolutely got up, and again went up to the second floor. He went to Xenia, the office manager, next to which stood a small bookcase, and began to look at the literature. On the one hand, it was the personal library of the owner - he bought books for himself, read them, performed some rituals like writing annotations or whatever they called it, when the main ideas of the book were briefly recited so that something would be stored in memory. On the other hand, after reading the book, Evgeny Viktorovich put them in this very closet, and any employee of the company could take and read what he wanted.

    - Kseniya! - Sergey turned to the office manager. - I want to take a book to read. Only I have no library card.

    - Haha very funny.

    - Well, you have everything serious here, I know. How can I get a book?

    - Just take it and that's it. Which one?

    “Now I

    ’ll choose ...” Sergei approached the shelf again and began to scrutinize the names of the books. Five minutes later I saw familiar words - the theory of restrictions. The author was listed as a certain Detmer.

    - I'll take this one! - said Sergey, pulled the book from the shelf and went back home. - Thank!

    - Wait! - There was a scream from behind. - Record necessary!

    - Well, I told you ... - smiled Sergey, returning to Xenia.

    The office manager began to dig in the pieces of paper on the table. Finally, I found what I was looking for - a standard office folder with a bunch of pieces of paper inside.

    “So, so, so, not this, not that, where is she ...” Xenia was flipping through the pieces of paper in the folder. - Looks like you take it first. Now, wait, I'll put a new sheet.

    - How is the first? Didn't Galina pass her this morning? She said she took to read a book about the theory of restrictions.

    - No, she passed another one today. - Xenia again began to stir up the paper. - Here, I found. Called "Target", the author - Goldratt.

    - Brrr ... - Sergey shook his head. - I do not understand anything. And where is this "Goal"?

    - On the top shelf.

    Sergei went to the books, pulled out one of the most plump, read the abstract. Indeed, the book turned out to be about the theory of constraints. Moreover, it was written by the author of this theory, however, in an unfamiliar format - a business novel. Sergey did not have to read business novels before.

    - So. - Sergey held Goldratt’s book in one hand, Detmera’s in the other, as if weighing. - Someone to read something? Ksenia, you do not know which book best describes the theory of restrictions?

    - What?

    - Well, librarians - they are always well-read.

    - I have no time to read, I work. - strictly answered Ksenia.

    - And do not take the house, is it?

    - And this is not your business, Sergey, what I take, and what I do not take.

    - Got it.

    - Will you take the book? I have to go to the meeting, the guests have arrived, I have to serve tea.

    - Yes. Both can be taken?

    - No, only one.

    “Goldratt will take it.”

    - Ok, I'll write you down.

    - Everything?

    - Yes all.

    Sergei put Detmera in place and went to his. Suddenly, the phone vibrated in my pocket - a text message came from my wife. She said that she was going to meet her friends, and she would have to pick her up from the restaurant at eight o'clock.


    What could be better than meeting your wife with friends? To motivate a husband, of course. Now Tanya will leave the restaurant, get into the car, and Sergey in all colors will feel his full, overwhelming and hopeless talentlessness. New cars, fur coats, travels, and what’s even there - even a new Nadia or Kristina TV, bought by her wonder-husband, will hurt so much in importance that you just have to cry bitterly. Explain the same useless?

    It was such thoughts that ran riot in Sergey’s head every time Tanya met with her friends. But not today.

    Today, Goldratt owned all the thoughts of Sergey. It was closer to the restaurant to go home from work, so Sergey did not go home, and at the end of the working day he began to read the “Goal”. He did little in his life reading about business, mostly fiction, and what could be called engineering knowledge, such as systems thinking.

    But he got such a book for the first time. Sergey never thought that technical, in fact, even scientific knowledge can be passed on like this. No tables, no graphs, no formulas, no boring explanations. Instead, it is an interesting, fascinating, and, importantly, realistic work, which can be called artistic, but at the same time it gives both real knowledge and understanding. In the first place - not the theory itself, but the premises, the situation, the process of application and understanding of the main characters.

    And now, sitting in the car in the parking lot near the restaurant, Sergey continued to read. To distract nothing, even blocked the car door. When they knocked on the window, even jumped a little by surprise.

    Tanya knocked on the window. Sergey hurriedly threw the book into the back seat, opened the door. Tanya sat down beside her.

    Sergey silently began to taxi from the parking lot. Once on the road, he turned on the radio, gave it to Gazku and drove towards the house.

    Tanya did not say anything. It was part of the script. After a few minutes, the silence should become inconvenient, and Sergei will be asked to ask how the meeting went, who has something new, and in general.

    But Sergei did not want to ask anything. Not because the head was occupied by the book. Just did not want to. I'm tired.

    The road to the house, according to the plan, took about twenty minutes. Sergey noticed that gas was running out. The house, of course, is enough, and the morning to get to work is the same, but now, it seems, the moment is more appropriate. Evening, there are almost no traffic jams, there should not be a lot of people at the gas station.
    Sergey turned on one of the famous network gas stations. Such, like, also called vertically integrated. Whatever that means ... There

    were few machines - one or two for each column. Sergei joined up at the end of the line, took out a customer refueling card, opened the tank with the lever, unfastened the belt, and turned the radio up. Tatyana continued to be silent.

    Mood worsened by the minute. It is with every minute, because the only car that stood in front of Sergei, with the gun already lowered into the tank, did not come into motion at all. The driver once ran out of the gas station building, poked something on the column, ran away again and did not appear again.

    - Well, your mother ... - Sergey finally broke the silence. - What a fucking gas station? No matter how you arrive, there is always a line, which the devils are doing ...

    Tanya was silent. She took out her phone, started flipping through photos on the social network.

    - Whether the case in Crete. - Sergey continued. - Remember, Tan?

    - What exactly? - Without raising her head, asked his wife. - How did you hug the French?

    - Damn, you again for your ... We just danced. You didn’t kick me out of this stupid contest.

    “Well, you took the opportunity brilliantly.”

    “What opportunity?” Just did everything they wanted there. How did I know that one of the contests would be tango?

    - Yeah, and you took it so hard that you won this competition.

    - I did not try anything, I just did dancing at school. I told you so. Classic, folk, modern ...

    - You are our dancer ...

    - Oh, you. - Sergey turned away, clasped his fingers into the lock and put his hands on the steering wheel.
    Tatiana was silent, Sergey - too. But the unspoken thought is densely stuck in the head, causing an itch of impatience.

    - I need about Greece something ... - Sergey began again.

    - Wanted to dance?

    - No ... Do you remember how gas station worked there?

    - What is the gas station? Are you talking about the beer tap in the dining room?

    - Damn ... You can’t talk to you at all.

    - Well, do not talk. - shrugged wife.

    Then, finally, the long-awaited driver emerged from the gas station building, pulled the pistol out of the tank, got into the car and drove off. Sergei hurriedly drove up to the column, went out, put the gun in the tank and slunk off to pay.

    There was a line at the gas station. Moreover, it is not clear where it came from - there were five cars on the street, not more, and there were eight people in the building. Two cashiers worked, and there were more queues, such a feeling. Someone was standing at the ticket office, someone was near, someone was at the coffee machine. In the way, Tanya needs to take coffee, she loves.

    Sergei chose the first available line, stood for a few minutes, reached the ticket office.

    - The second column, ninety-fifth, forty liters. - said Sergey, getting a bank card.

    - Wait. - strictly said the cashier. - You put the gun in the tank?

    - Yes of course.

    - Now go, pull out, insert back into the column, and then again - into the tank.

    - What? Why? What for?

    - We apologize, we have temporary difficulties. The tanker quit, the new one will only be tomorrow. Usually, tankers do this, and today customers have to, because we cannot leave the cash register.

    “A moron ...” said Sergey angrily, and went to follow the instructions.

    He did everything as they ordered, returned to the checkout. Sincerely believing that he had the right not to stand in a queue, Sergey went straight to the cashier.

    - Man, you did not stand here. - smiled aunt forty, also standing near the cashier.

    - Yes, I ran a gun to distort. - Sergey answered. - Do not stand in line again?

    - Why not? - continued to smile aunt. - All ran to distort, all again defended their turn.

    - Ah, well, then weeds. - Sergey was embarrassed and stood at the end of the queue.

    Finally, Sergey got to the cashier, took out a card, again called the column, the brand of fuel and the amount.

    - Yes, another cappuccino is necessary. - said Sergey.

    - First you need to pour. - sighed the cashier. - And then pay.

    - Yes, what is it, and ... - Sergei felt that he was beginning to turn red with outrage. - Are you kidding me? Okay, you do not have a tanker, so you have to run around with coffee?

    - We apologize, we have instructions. You must ...

    - Does it hurt much if I owe you? And what for me your apologies?

    - Well, what am I going to do, huh? - Suddenly flared up the cashier. - I, perhaps, invent these rules? Why are you evil at me? There is a phone manager on the wall, complain to him if you want! We got it already!

    Then the cashier, suddenly, turned away and ran into the back room. Sergey's indignation immediately passed, and he felt terribly awkward. There were sighs from the queue, someone shook his tongue disapprovingly.

    “Okay, I'll go pouring coffee ...” muttered Sergey and hastily retreated from the queue, which quickly ran to another box office.

    Sergey poured coffee very slowly. Long looked at the machine, glasses, fillers and bags of sugar. I really wanted to update - not spiritual or moral, but that people standing in line would finish their work and leave. New ones that come will not see the incident, and you will feel fine.

    A few minutes later, it seems the update has happened. The cashier returned from the back room and took her place. Sergey thought for a moment what cash desk he would get up to, and decided that he would not be a child, like a naughty schoolboy - he went to the same cashier.

    - For God's sake, sorry. - He began, reaching the ticket office. - I did not want to offend you. Just understand, the evening, tired after work, fell on you. Sorry, I personally have no complaints to you.

    - It's okay. - smiled cashier with red eyes. - That you excuse me. I have been working here recently, not yet used to it. What do you have, cappuccino? Big?

    Finally, Sergey returned to the car. I handed Tanya some coffee, strapped in and steered to the side of the road.

    - Awful refueling. - He said, being in a stream of cars.

    - But the coffee is delicious. - answered Tanya, sipping hot drink. - What didn't you take?

    - Oh well ... I do not like. In Greece, then ...

    - I’ve taken it off again ...

    - Well, there is a gas station, remember?

    - She said, I do not remember.

    - You slept, or what? Remember, the car was rented, rolled around the island?

    - I remember.

    - Well, and then we stopped at a gas station, at the end. The car should be handed over with a full tank.

    - So what?

    “Everything is very fast there.” Three columns like, or four. There is no refueling building at all. All the staff - one man, with a bag on the belly. You drive up to the column, he immediately runs up, asks what and how much.

    - And what did you tell him? Do you think drunk?

    - No, just said “full”. He immediately put the gun in the tank, returned to the window - I did not even get out of the car. Then he ran to the next car, and when the gun bummed ...

    - What? Which gun bummed?

    - Damn, well, filling. He shoots when the tank is full.


    Oh, you ... - Oh, you ... In short, he pulled out a gun, approached me with his handbag - there is money and a terminal for bank cards. I gave him the money, he immediately counted the change and ran on. At all about everything - a couple of minutes gone.

    - Well, why did you tell it?

    - And at our gas stations all through one place. You will lose ten minutes, at least. But automation, some processes with instructions, several tankers run, the building will be rebuilt, shops with prices twice as high, cards with points.

    - Terribly interesting! - Tanya sat sideways, and painted on the face of attention. Sergey looked at the road, and did not see this picture.

    - No, to think about people, they are a city garden.

    - Aha-aha-aha.

    “Why, man, why come to the gas station?”

    - And really, why?

    - Refuel, first of all!

    - Come on?!

    - Seriously! It is clear there to buy coffee, or omyvayku, but the main thing after all - refuel!

    - Wow! How can they not understand this!

    - I'm surprised myself. It seems that intelligent people should manage gas stations, but it is necessary to think about how they earn money.

    - Of course!

    - Well, I am about the same. The more you ship gasoline, the more money you earn. Speed ​​is important, not rituals and body kit all this.

    - So why are you silent! Come on, turn around, go back, we'll tell them everything! Open your eyes!

    Sergey stopped at the intersection and looked at Tatiana. She sat, eyes round and continuing to portray attention.

    - Are you kidding, or what? - Sergey asked puzzled.

    - What are you! How can you! Come on, tell me about the gas station! And how space ships plow the Bolshoi open spaces!

    - No, thank you ... I thought you were interested.

    - Of course! What could be more interesting!

    - Ok ... I mean no, not ok. How did you sit with your friends?

    - Fine.

    Eh, I'll have to listen at home, Sergei thought.

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