Hess my Nemesis

So, it's not the neighbors. This morning, at 6 am, on a Saturday, a crazy jack-hammering noise began. For about 40 minutes I lay in bed half-asleep trying to imagine what could possibly be happening; a small child had fallen down a sewer grate and a section of the street had to be lifted, or perhaps a flood has taken out all of lower Manhattan and up here at 122nd they needed to start building barricades or we'd all need to learn to swim real fast. Finally my annoyance level rose above my complete exhaustion and I leaned out my window to see.... a Hess Fuel Oils truck idling. The idling itself wasn't making the bulk of the noise, that was coming from a little steam-smoke stack on the top of the cab which was clattering for it's little life, for no apparent reason.

Certainly, this is a issues for I-House security, is it not? So I called down to the security manager and he said "Yes, we've gotten a lot of calls about the noise and we'll be going up soon to solve the problem" this raised me suspicion, up? "What do you mean," I asked, "It's a truck outside." And he responded with "Oh, I thought ti was on the 7th floor. A truck outside isn't my problem, you should call the police if it bothers you so much." A bit taken aback I reminded him that he had gotten other calls, it certainly wasn't me being temperamental, and wasn't it his job. The phone call ended with me hanging up while sounded sugary sweet, and I just took a conflict resolution course yesterday (but really, it's the first day of 6, and it's early yet for me to be putting the stuff to use).

Remembering my earlier experience with calling the police when there was a disturbance on the level of a gang showdown over a prostitute (nothing) I decided I would have to take matter into my own hands. I entertained the thought of going down stairs, around the block (there's no door open this early on the North side), into the cold and having a face-to-face with a trucker on a deserted street who at best was just insensitive but at worst a crazy man with violent dementia. Putting that idea behind me, I decided to take it to the highest level. I contacted 411 and spoke with a Hess Fuel Oils operator and told him one of his trucks was doing him no PR service. He promised to call the truck I identified, and sure enough in a few minutes the truck driver (I was watching him all this time from my window as he fiddled with papers) pulled out his cell phone, looked up at me, and then turned off his truck!

There is a moral here: Fuel Oil Corporations Are Evil. EVIL. Not only are they helping to promote right wing governments, wars in the Middle East, and global warming, but they are also waking me up a full two hours before my alarm goes off for me to go to a 9-5 class on conflict resolution. EVIL.

And this is funny I realized, on a level, because yesterday in class the instructor was discussing situations in which to employ different forms of collaboration vs. compromising, and she said that in certain situations you simply cannot allow anything amoral to win even a part of its goals. And then, straight on, she said "Evil does exist in this world, pure evil." How ominous is that? Michelle, my friend in class, and I stared at each other waiting for either lightening to strike or the room to go dark of its own accord. Well, I know the face ov evil, and it is Hess.