Yesterday
Charlie showed me his receipt for 100 gallons of #2 oil, scheduled delivered yesterday, but instead of the delivery, he received a phone call alerting him that his order was canceled. Charlie’s objections received an “I don’t care!” response, and to that, he responded, “That’s no way to do business!” Their response floored him, “Your money was refunded and if you don’t like it, then go fuck yourself!” They terminated the call.
My Christmas present, a COOLPIX 900 — happy me, was delivered via UPS. The UPS guy and I always exchange a few short stories whenever he stops by, but yesterday, he did all the complaining. As a 15-year loyal propane gas customer, he never expected his request to be ignored. He ordered online a week ago and didn’t receive a receipt, nor a delivery.
On my third trip to the variety store, yesterday, I was paying for the K-1 I had purchased, when behind me, a petite elderly lady started confessing that her oil was running low. She looked bewildered standing there holding her 5-gallon can. As I turned to leave, I smiled and suggested she refill several more times because it is better to have more than not enough.
On my third trip to the fueling station, yesterday, the clerk asked me how many gallons I had already pumped. Her question puzzled me because I had paid her twice before for two 20 gallon purchases. For a long second, I thought about being truthful but her quizzical looked didn’t demand it. I told her 5 gallons and proceeded to pump another 20. Note — this morning as the storm hit, I made one last run and purchased another 10 gallons. They hadn’t run out.
In my warm old winter coat and lined pants, I was putting the nozzles back on my oil cans when a car pulled up and a woman dressed for the evening at the opera got out. Her brightly colored dress nicely complemented her black flats. Her shawl didn’t draw too much and didn’t appear all that warm either. She retrieved a gas can from her trunk. She stopped and looked at the pump, and then at me, and said, “I have never done this before!” Smiling inwardly, I wondered which part hadn’t she done. Had she never been in cold weather? Had she never been to the opera? Or, was it the fuel? I thought possibly all three.
Instead of calling my oil company, yesterday, I drove 7 minutes and visited them. The ladies at the desk are taking an insane amount of orders for fuel delivery. My call three days ago was number 200, I may have received it by this coming Friday, but the storm will delay that. The folks ordering likely and desperately need the fuel., how many hundreds of homeowners are hoping the next truck passing by is their oil delivery — arrived?
From what I have seen over the past several days, we as a society are not prepared to handle a real emergency persisting over several days.
Jeff Bailey © 2018
