
<p>Nestled in the back of the trailer, neatly concealed behind old rusted kettles and bicycle parts, like the booty from a pirates last crusade, lies a large cardboard box. Inside, the spoils of a year's worth of scrapping old VCR's, derelict computers, scavenged tablets, and cellphones galore. Meticulously cleaned, perfectly sorted, as if to note their precious value was that of pure gold panned from the Alaskan rivers.</p>
<p>His grin broadens as he pulls the box out to be weighed and valued. The box is laden with golden cell phone motherboards and a few sticks of ram laid atop for effect.</p>
<p>The expert is called from the sorting line to inspect the lot. A young boy comes from the large building behind the office, looks to the old man, who stands smiling, his gold tooth gleaming against the morning sun. </p>
<p>“Morning,” says the boy</p>
<p>‘A good morning to you as well young man,” says the old man eccentrically.</p>
<p>“What’s in here?” Asks the boy.</p>
<p>“323 kilos” Says the clerk at the weigh station.</p>
<p>“Oh these are all cell phone boards from the old push button type phones, some ram sticks, and I think a computer board in there somewhere.”</p>
<p>“Alright, we have to sort them and give you an estimate of what we pay.”</p>
<p>The man’s smile dims ever so slightly, “How long with that take?” he asks.</p>
<p>“30 minutes maybe.” responds the expert, as a forklift comes and takes the box away, “you’re welcome to come in and have a coffee while you wait, you can watch the sorting.”</p>
<p>The old man and the boy enter the large sorting facility, an hour passes and 2 coffees later the boy comes from his office with a list in his hand. </p>
<p>“Here’s your list, we can give you three thousand for all the items.” says the boy.</p>
<p>Delighted, the man signs the paperwork, collects his spoils and leaves.</p>
<p>Later that month, a truck leaves the scrapyard headed for the Collector. A massive facility with acres of the remnants of old computer parts, out of date electronic parts and piles upon piles of green fiber boards. The truck stops. There’s a light rain in the yard. The old mans box is taken off the truck, dumped over a few pallets and a woman with a cell phone conveniently snaps 2 or 3 photos of the spread out contents. </p>
<p>Back on the other side of town the scrap yard waits for an answer on final payment, the email arrives no more than fifteen minutes after the truck has unloaded. The procurement director calls the electronics expert into his office.</p>
<p>“Yes sir?”</p>
<p>“Have a seat Steve.” says the director, “we have a bit of an issue. The truck that unloaded at Milton today, shows a list of e-waste valued at One Thousand Four Hundred Dollars, title 83899, which we show here we paid Three Thousand for. Not to mention 7 other bags that have come back lower than expected. Why's this happening Steve?”</p>
<p>“Ahh, can I see that please?” The boy asks.</p>
<p>He takes the printed sheet from the director, on it, is a listing of items, categorized by quality, perfectly ordered and valued with an image of the material attached with each lot of goods. </p>
<p>He looks bewildered, calculating in his head the 18 tons, browsing his memory thinking of the all the gold parts he remembered.</p>
<p>“This has to be wrong sir, how could they sort everything already, they have to be lying. I think we’re getting screwed sir. The truck's only been there 20 minutes, there’s no way they can sort 18 tons in 20 minutes. Besides, we made money on the other bags, so it's not a big deal.” The young man interjects. There’s a distinct sound of uncertainty in his voice. </p>
<p>“Steven, the fact we didn't lose more money isn't the point. Why are we over pricing materials? Look at the order, the top of the sheet says ViewPasTM, Powered By Pfane Scientific. Do you know what that is?”</p>
<p>“No sir, I’ve never heard of it. Have you?”</p>
<p>“No I haven’t, go look it up, see if you can find it online, and make sure you change the pricing on e-waste for next month, we can’t be over pricing this crap, and tell the guys in the shop to watch what they’re sorting, if they don’t know what something is they need to ask you.”</p>
<p>“Yes sir” Says Steven, closing the office door behind him. "Ask me," he mutters, "what do you think I am, a robot?" - To be continued.</p>