chapter 1

I had been working for General Snack Foods since a graduated from college six years ago. I was a nice place to work, with good people, working conditions and pay. I was in the quality assurance lab. My job and that of my co-workers was to be sure our products looked and tasted their best.

We did some taste testing, lab analysis of ingredients, temperature checks and checked the production line for any irregularities. It was a pleasant, low stress working environment. We only did taste testing once or twice a month depending on when a new batch or lot was started up. We did only a small spot sample. That was about to change however.

The company’s products had not been selling well for the last two quarters. Management thought it was our advertising campaign had not been up to par. They hired a marketing outfit to run consumer tests and see where the problem lay.

The shocker came back that our product line did not taste nearly as well as the competitions did! The news sent shock waves through the company. The test kitchen was put on overtime to check recipes, ingredients and processing. They found that the problem lay in production. Some products were being baked or fried way to long, or the ingredient mix got messed up. Our department was receiving most of the blame for not catching the problem earlier.

The company forced our old boss to retire. They went and hired the guru of quality assurance out of retirement to rebuild our company’s reputation.

He started the following week. Mr. Faber had been the head of quality assurance for our largest competitor. He retired a couple of years ago, even though he was only in his early fifties. It was rumored that it was his wife’s idea for him to retire. We could not figure why then was he coming back into the business.

When I met Mr. Faber, I was stunned, he was huge! He must have weighed over three hundred pounds and was only about 5’7” tall. He looked like he had been fat most of his life. His clothes fit him well, and he carried himself well, though he did waddle, do to his weight. He joked about his weight and did not seem self conscious about it.

He laid out our new game plan to everyone. He believed in a process of constant sampling of all of our products, not only for temperature but also taste, texture and appearance. He expected us to be constantly sampling all day, we were to eat samples from every package brought to us. Most of us were stunned. We did have a few people in the department who had gained weight with the easy access to plenty of snacks all day long. Most of us had learned not to get carried away over eating and had managed to maintain our weight.

Mr. Faber said he expected us all to gain weight. It was side effect of keeping constant watch on quality. We were all stunned. The women in our dept. were especially upset wondering what their husbands and boy friends would think if they gained weight. I wondered how my wife would react if I gained also.

The very next morning large trays of samples were brought to everyone’s cubicle to sample. We were expected to eat everything! Mr. Faber did not believe in just tasting and spitting out the remainder. He said we expect our customers to eat our product, then we should eat it too.

We all reluctantly dug into to our sample trays. I had cheese snacks at eight-thirty, then chocolate crackers at ten and potato chips at eleven-thirty. By noon I felt that I would explode. I had undone my pants and belt and wore my lab coat to cover up.

My co-worker across the hall was having as much trouble as me. She had worn a loose fitting sun dress that morning, but by now it was straining to keep her covered. She glanced at me and just patted her bloated belly. I nodded and did the same.

Just then Mr. Faber called a luncheon meeting in the conference room, with a catered lunch and all! We all staggered in. He too looked bloated, but seemed to be enjoying it.
He insisted we all have a good lunch. I managed to eat a sandwich, chips and a can of pop. He told us the dress code would be relaxed immediately. We could wear sweats or stretch pants, t-shirts, gym shorts or anything that was comfortable but with some modesty. He reviewed our reports for the morning and made some calls to the production line to make some needed corrections. He dismissed us and said what a good job we were doing.

The onslaught of food continued, I had crackers at two, followed by cheese snacks at three and corn chips at four-thirty. I was so bloated the buttons of my shirt looked like they would pop any minute.

My co-worker had to ask me to help her up. She had an apron on to cover the popped buttons of her sun dress.

We all staggered to our cars to drive home. I had warned by wife to what to expect with the change in our job requirements. She was still stunned when she saw how bloated I was. I stripped off my constricting clothes and lay on our bed. To my surprise she came and started rubbing my belly. I felt so good I fell asleep for a while. She woke me up with the smells of huge dinner! I started to complain, but she said that she had been cooking all day. I just pulled on a t-shirt to cover my briefs and went to the dinning room.