The Gas Man Cometh Not

April 10, 2009 at 6:28 PM | Posted in Journal | Leave a comment
  I came home last night late, and it was raining.  I knew what to expect, but I didn’t realize the spectacle…
  In the rain, in the darkness, this large metal container looked like a giant ship that had run aground in a storm.  Now it sat, silent, immobile, and became a part of the landscape as the rain landed on it and responded with a metallic tinkle.
  Foreshadowing my future, it sat dormant at an angle and blocked the entire driveway in a menacing manner, as if to say, "None shall pass."

  As well with gas:  "None shall pass."
  The conspiracy theorist in me–the one that believes Oswald didn’t act alone and Cheney personally set the explosives in the twin towers–thinks that the guy from the gas company *could* have helped more but didn’t because it was close to the Easter Holiday and he wanted to get out of there, and besides, it was a woman (Detroit’s mom) so he figured he could bullshit her and then bolt.
  Maybe, maybe not.  The fact remains, we paid the bill yet have no gas.
  I called my go-to, Cousin Joey, and he called his guy.  His guy called him back today, finally, and said something doesn’t sound right with that story.   The guy said I should call the gas company and raise some hell because it sounded like bullshit to him.
  Of course, by now it’s 3pm on Good Friday.  The automated voice gently chides me for even attempting to get help right before a holiday, and connects me to an emergency line, or semi-emergency.  Or, just the assholes that haven’t left for the day yet.
  I don’t care to recite the conversation verbatim because it tasks me.  But I learned these things:
  It is not their job to help me.  (Taken out of context, this is more telling than I thought.)
  Ain’t no body fit’na help my sorry ass this weekend.
  I could schedule them to come and fix it, and be billed.
  When the tech came to turn the gas on, he also checks the pressure in the meter.  It wouldn’t hold pressure, indicating a leak in either a line or at an appliance–
  And that’s when I thought maybe I had the solution.  We’ll see if I’m right:  Chances are that it’s not in the refrigerator.  But as I run down the list of gas appliances in the house, I can think of a few obvious culprits, like the dryer, because of the flex-line, or the stove, because it is hundreds of years old.  I could possibly fix it myself.
  Of course, even if I fix it this weekend, it’s not getting turned back on until Monday, more likely Tuesday.  We are not cooking on Easter.  Not at all.
  "Is there anything else I can do for you today?" the chick on phone asked me.
  I scoffed.  "Why start now?"


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