Error (OddShot & MeganFieldsman)

[OddShot]

Airy hums emit from machines whirling together blends of cotton. Dark brown eyes observe the process before darting back to industrial factory doors. Several trucks full of ink are being delivered today, and Gail, the newly appointed manager needs to sign off on the exchange. The purchase was made a week before she began working, so she's never made a transaction with this company. Custom made steel toe boots thud against concrete as she approaches a group of men standing beside the exit. This is her delivery crew, but today they'll be directing another company's team.

Gail straightens her posture, and lowers a hand from her hip, "The trucks are due to arrive in five minutes, so let's open the doors."

Used to her impassive demeanor when giving orders, the delivery crew wastes no time lifting the doors. Making her way outside, she gestures for one of her assistant managers. Her slender frame slumps against the wall. She's wearing a bright purple blazer with black skinny jeans.

"Well, we got all the dollies out, so there isn't much to do besides wait," an older man chuckles before standing beside her.

"It would be nice if the Penny Blots' trucks arrived soon. It'll me bothersome if we're put behind schedule again," she crosses her arms.

Conversation is slow between them but eventually fills the time. Two minutes after their expected arrival, the trucks roll into view. Satisfaction stretches across her light red lips. Things are running smoothly. Once the first truck is directed into the factory she follows suit. A man exits through the truck's passenger door. Yellow fabric hangs over his shoulders, suggesting he holds a different position from the men exiting through the truck bed. His eyes sweep across the factory floor, skipping over Gail to the assistant manager beside her.

"Ah, you must be Mr. Summer. I have paperwork for you to fill out," a clipboard is held steadily in his hand that he offers it over.

Gail's eyes widen for a second as she follows his movements, "You have the wrong person. I'm Ms. Summer, this factory's manager."

She points at her chest, as if to reinforce the point. Red dusts the delivery man's cheeks as he reads her name tag.

"Oh! I-I thought you were an inter- Ahem, that doesn't matter. Take this pen." He stutters, somewhat unnerved by her stoic expression.

Her eyebrows quirk up, before the pen and clipboard are handed over. Come on, I'm not that imposing, she thinks. The assistant manager chuckles after witnessing their exchange.

"I need to see the barrels before signing anything," she gestures to the trucks, expecting to be led to the cargo.

"Of course!" After adjusting his vest, the man heads for the first truck.

Gail saunters behind him while flipping through the paperwork then abruptly stops in place. Her head shoots up, and the man turns around. His eyes are squinted, showing confusion. She looks down and flips to a specific page.

"Ah…" her lips press together as she re-reads the page's header multiple times.

The delivery man clasps his hands together before approaching her, unsure of what to think, "Is something wrong?"

"Someone mixed up the paperwork. Another textile company's name is listed on this page's header."

He springs up into a straight position, "Let me see!"

After confirming someone mixed up their paperwork, the small group rushes to check if the correct barrels arrived. Men unload several barrels then proceed to check their labels. The delivery man looks down and gulps before meeting eyes with her.

"It seems barrels were mixed up…"

Gail chews the inside of her lip before taking a deep breath. This isn't the delivery crew's fault, "Can you please call your director?"

A nervous smile etches itself onto his face as he reaches into his back pocket. He pulls out his phone and dials a number. It takes a few minutes for him to explain the situation before the mobile device is handed over. The director's voice is low, and he offers to accredit their account. Apparently it would take a month for a new shipment to arrive.

"This is beyond a mere refund. I'll need to delay deliveries this month," her voice could cut diamonds.

The line goes silent for a few minutes, "Penny Blots can issue statements to the companies you're working with. My supervisor also gave me permission to remove delivery fees for this company…"

Sighing, she massages her temple with frustration. Nothing can be done about spilled milk.

"Those terms are fine, but a few more points should be made. If this company decides to quarry another ink maker, we will be at a loss. Those free deliveries would be pointless. Let me contact headquarters, I'm not in the position to finalize a financial agreement like that. In the meantime, I suggest you contact my buyers as a courtesy, not a negotiation."

Their conversation ends after the director agrees. Gail huffs before turning toward both delivery crews, "I don't want my men anywhere near the barrels that were unloaded. Penny Blots' workers can load the truck."

It would be a disaster if one of her subordinates damaged a barrel, so she's avoiding that issue by eliminating the possibility. If something happens, cameras will show who damaged the goods. Penny Blots is in debt, and she doesn't want to give them a reason to fine this company. Luckily, everything is put up without error and the delivery team leaves as soon as the chance arrives. It's beyond her how they could load several hundred barrels onto the wrong trucks. Does nobody at that company look over files? This is giving her a headache. Ah, files! She looks toward her office, deciding it would be a good idea to email the corporate office before making a call. After all, it's hard to deny things stated in emails.

"This is going to be a fun week," her voice drips with sarcasm as she walks past her assistant manager to the office.

 

[MeganFieldsman]

Paper work, financial decisions, reading over new proposals, looking over new designs, finalizing giant order requests, finalizing which stores shipments are going to were all in a small days work for Pearl. Yes, he relied heavily on his other staff workers, but all last decisions had to go through him. He was luckily not a hard man to convince if he saw they could afford or had room for risk. They were a company with only three factory distributing all over the globe. If something went wrong in one, it could destroy their profits.

The beginning of his day had started out like any other. He came into the nice office and looked at his list of things he did not finish the day before. After that, he went around to the different departments for briefings and was given more paperwork and requests. Which he dropped off at his assistance's desk to have her skim through them and prioritize the matters while he worked on the ones from the day before. He read up the report sent in yesterday from the assistant at one of his factories that just got a new manager a while ago. He read over it and read about how she seemed to be doing well, but they were having troubles with shipments.

Pearl chuckled and got up. He walked to the department over material imports/raw materials. He handed over the printed off page to the director of the department. "Find out if the shipment came in alright. Sales are about to really get behind over there," he patted the man on the head. All his workers were used to such strange behavior from him. He was a strange man.

It was not long before he was deep in work reading over different proposals and shipments and all that jazz. He was in a pretty upbeat mood when someone knocked on his office door and came in. It was someone from the raws. "Mr. Free, we have just have word that the ink shipment was not pushed back again, but this time mixed up. They received the wrong shipment," he informed Pearl. "Looks like I am making a trip. This management thing down there is not working. She just came in at a bad time and needs help," he said standing up, "I do love a good trip. Tell them I am going down there tomorrow to fix it. I will call the factory."

He first told his assistant to make travel arrangements and then picked up his phone. He called the number he knew by heart. He had the three golden numbers stored in his mind. He waited for the manager to pick up.

 

[OddShot]

Pipes run along the ceiling inside Gail's office, further reminding her of the factory's issue via industrial décor. Lunch would be good right now, dessert would be better, but neither of those things would improve the situation. Instead, they'd prolong its solution. Manicured fingernails drum against the bottom of her keyboard. Sighing, she pulls her roller chair closer to the desk. Logging into the system, she opens her email and begins to compose a message for the raw materials department at headquarters. She ruffles her hair out of frustration. On one hand, they could use the dyes from the mixed up shipment, but they'd have to be diluted with water because there weren't enough barrels. Penny Blots would also owe them. On the other hand, they could contact other ink and dye manufacturers in the area, but she doubts any would be able to ship such a large amount of product with a short notice. Not using ink isn't an option because too many articles of clothing were projected to be made with those dyes.

After composing an email to inform headquarters of what transpired, she presses a hand to her neck in thought. It'll take a few minutes for them to respond. Most likely, the raw materials department head will respond, though she supposes it could also be a product manager or the loss prevention department head. Her gaze drifts to the door, the assistant manager who was present during the incident is receiving faxed copies of the mixed up order forms. Aug, those files annoy her, the copies saved to her computer were correct, and the woman who talked to her two weeks ago from Penny Blots confirmed it. How did it get mixed up? Her cheek is cradled in a hand, and she closes her eyes. What can they do?

She plans on calling corporate, but wants to think over the issue for a minute or two first. Color blocking has been popular the last few seasons, and white works with most color schemes. Perhaps they could revise ways to roll out a portion of the products. They'd have to order and create new parts for their printers. How much would that cost? How long would it take? Gail taps her chin and leans back in the chair. This factory was riddled with issues when she was hired on, but it didn't seem intentional. For a brief moment, she wonders if the old manager passed away, or needed to move without much notice. Ringing bounces off the walls, and Gail jumps forward in her seat. It seems someone at corporate got the news, but she doesn't recognize more than the company extension. Her lips purse together with curiosity. Who's on the other end?

"Hello, this is (factory name)'s manager. Who's calling?"

She blinks when the person responds, then blinks again, needing a second to register things. A weird urge to laugh washes over her, but she fights it off. The owner called. That never happened with her previous employers. How strange... and new.

 

[MeganFieldsman]

Pearl was slightly excited when the manager picked up. A trip down there would mean hard work, but also a good chance to be out of the office. He did not like sitting around all day filling things out. "Yes, I know. This the president and owner of Hotfind, Pearl Free. I am calling about the problems you seem to be having down there at the Indiana Clothing factory. I am planning to come over there tomorrow and start working things out right away. You seem to be having too many large problems for just one manager and too many cost dependent and big decision problems for me to trust an underling," he explained as he spun around in his chair.

As he talked his assistant got all his accommodations ready such as calling the pilot of the company jet and a hotel reservation. She wondered why he was going down himself, but the more she thought about it the more it made sense. All the problems they were having at ICF (as they shortened it) were major decisions that would all have to be run by Pearl in the end. It made sense to cut out all the middlemen and just go down there himself. Things would be able to go much quicker and smoother that way. Pearl was a smart and determined man.

The three sections of the company all wondered why he was going himself and not sending the head of each one of the departments. They all wanted to go down and take care of it, but the decision had already been made. They all wrote him off as a fool for such a decision.

 

[OddShot]

"Interesting," she mumbles while leaning back. Decisiveness is a good trait for management to have. Somebody has to make decisions rather than dawdle around problems, even if they're wrong on occasion. Still, this is interesting, if not a bit undiscerning. However, it's not the man's choice to visit the factory that took her by surprise, but his decision to arrive tomorrow. In fact, she finds it practical to keep his department heads busy at work. Production times in other factories might suffer if people left their stations. She can respect that choice. His subordinates made accommodations; she has no doubt about that, but this probably means he plans to do most of his research over the issue in Indiana.

Her foot taps against the ground, and a grin teeters across her lips. There are other possibilities, of course, but she doesn't know what sort of person Pearl Free is. Numbers can be used to predict outcomes, but they can be skewed by one outlier. People aren't consistent all the time, at some point, human error or emotion will mix things up. Having a general idea of someone else's personality makes her feel comfortable, not because she's emotional, but because it provides her with another function. It allows her to marginalize room for errors. At the very least, she'll come away from this meeting with a better understanding of who she's working for.

Deciding she needs an outlet for brainstorming and getting ready for the visit (like most extroverts), she seeks out interaction with employees.

 

[MeganFieldsman]

Pearl hung up knowing it was probably a little odd for a president of an entire company to be flown over night to a struggling factory. That was just it though. Not many presidents would see how crucial getting it back on its feet as soon as possible was. Few companies as big as them had so few factories also. Every little thing about his company had to stay balanced or it would all collapse.

He knew he could trust the small staffs of the headquarter to take care of business at the other two factories while he was away. Things were running smoothly there. He got to work typing up instructions for the small sections. He typed up new report forms for them to send him while he was away. He realized he also needed to send out emails to the different departments to have meetings with them. He walked to his assistance office next door and told her to setup the meeting times for first thing in the morning and make sure everyone was aware of the meetings before they went home.

"I know you have a lot on your plate getting all the arrangements last minute, but I just need this last little thing," he sort of begged her with flirty puppy dog eyes. She giggled softly.

"Okay, okay, Pearl," she gave in. He chuckled.

"Thanks," he said before leaving her office. He returned to his office and finished up his instructions before he went home to pack

 

[OddShot]

Chattering rings throughout the factory's main floor. Workers' faces are contorted into all kinds of unpleasant expressions. None of this surprises Gail; on the contrary, their reactions were expected. Thirty or forty minutes ago her demeanor was glum as well. Luckily, for this situation, her face isn't the most expressive. Employees view her as stoic, which keeps them a fraction calmer. Small percentages are an awful lot when multiplied by several thousand workers. Her footsteps are quiet as she approaches the mailing and faxing room. The assistant manager that accompanied her during the transaction is still making copies.

"The president is coming tomorrow."

He jumps, startled by her voice, "Oh man, when did you get here?!"

The man turns around, and stares at Gail for a moment before murmuring, "Pearl's coming? That's some short notice. The Frees have always been like that though."

"We'll have to make an announcement, and secure office space. What did the previous manager do during visits?" she rests a hand to her face.

"Hmm, he was old friends with the last president, so things were pretty casual. I mean, he'd prepare paperwork for them to look over, but there wasn't much else."

First impressions are important; she'd rather be over prepared, "That's unfortunate, I take it there hasn't been as much interaction with the new president. Alfred, tell the moving crew to clear out the small meeting room. There aren't plans for it to be used this week. They can place a desk in there."

Filing cabinets, cable lines, and whiteboards are in there. Plus, it's by the cafeteria. She'd rather not place him in the same office quarters as herself and Alfred. Space is good. After going over meeting plans with her assistant, she exits the faxing room and makes an announcement about Pearl arriving tomorrow. She notifies her management team and goes over specifics and numbers with them. Her work day is busy, so she's glad when closing rolls around.

Gail's sitting at the bus stop when she receives a text from her mother, reminding her to eat. The young woman chuckles, and decides to dine at a restaurant a few blocks away from her apartment before heading home. She writes a memo to suggest going grocery shopping this week. She munches on her meal while going over a business checklist in her head. Tomorrow should be interesting.

 

[MeganFieldsman]

Pearl avoids the other man living in his house when he finally grabs something to eat in his home. His father was never much fun or much help when it came to business. He finished packing and getting ready before going to bed where he sat in bed typing up things that his underlings would need in his absence.

The next morning he got up early and got in the shower. He thought about what kind of impression he might leave on the new manager of his factory. The people over that stuff took care of intervening her. The only thing he knew was their report on how she acted, her file they compiled, and the few calls he made to a few people previously over her head. It would be his first time meeting the woman he had put his stamp of approval on. He knew that she could be quite a card. He got out of the shower and promptly dressed. Then he headed to the office with all his stuff in tow.

He have his meetings and handed to the paper work they needed. Also he sent then the material in email. They were already, so he hurried off on the company jet. It was quite amusing with how much they flew in his company that owning their own jet was less expensive than plane tickets all the time. He read over paperwork and even more work over a drink while flying. He would be out in the field like he had wanted to be soon. He knew his mother often travelled wherever she felt needed and he was happy to be following in her suite.

 

[OddShot]

Gail's roommates were nowhere to be found when she arrived at the apartment. Well, neither of the girls is best at leaving texts or reminders, so it's not too surprising. The living room looks empty and foreshadows a dull night. While she's not the most talkative, or even expressive person, Gail prefers the company of others to solitude. People, in flesh and blood, are more entertaining than her television set. Though, it's an okay substitute when nobody is around. She pulls out her cell phone and sends them texts, asking about their whereabouts.

When she receives a response telling her they're on a date, she thinks of ways to entertain herself. She looks toward her satchel from work and decides it would be a good idea to finish organizing the transaction notes between Hot Find and Penny Blot's. This will give her time to do something else tomorrow morning. It'll help with filling her imaginary quota of troubleshooting for the week. Once she finishes and saves the documents, Gail closes her laptop and decides to turn in early. Her roommates have a key.

 

[MeganFieldsman]

The plan ride ride was nice. He read up all he could and devised a plan for the factory. At some point, he napped and relaxed. It wasn't a short or long ride though. When he arrived at the airport, though he had enjoyed his flight, he was ready to get off. He wanted to go get to work. He left the airport in a rental car and went to the hotel he was booked at.

He checked in and flirted some with the male behind the counter without realizing what he was doing. It was a rather prestigious hotel. He would have rather stayed at a simpler one, but he knew his assistant wouldn't have allowed it. With haste, he made his way up to his room and unpacked. After unpacking and settling, he picked up the hotel phone and dialed the number for the factory. He wanted to tell the manager know he was here and ready to come in whenever they were ready. It was with much anticipation he waited for an answer.