Threats... and a visit... from the gas company

We got a letter awhile back from the gas company saying that they had to come by and inspect our meter on the inside of the house, that we had to call to make an appointment, and -- if we failed to respond -- our gas service would be cut off.

Isn't that nice?

Perhaps the stern tone was taken because this was not the first such letter; I don't really know. These days, nearly all mail addressed to the Curmudgeon household falls into two groups: bills and stuff to be shredded.

Long Suffering Spouse got a shredder awhile back. I helped pick it out. I insisted on the industrial strength size so I could bring stuff home from work, which I do occasionally. But a fine race horse like this must be exercised, and Long Suffering Spouse likes putting it through its paces. And we're not buying nuthin' from nobody nohow these days....

Come to think of it, it's a wonder that we did open this letter from the gas company.

Anyway, imminent termination of service or not, Long Suffering Spouse was not making appointments for anyone to come by the house while she was still teaching school... unless, of course, I was willing to take the day.

And I wasn't.

School ended last Friday; the appointment was duly made for this morning.

Long Suffering Spouse and I have had a few phone conversations already today about the inspection:

"The gas man came and he's outside now, waiting."

"Waiting outside for what?"

"For his supervisor. This kid [we are getting to the point, now, where just about everyone is a kid] thinks there's a gas leak."

"So he's outside so he doesn't get blown up?"

"Apparently. He said he has to wait outside, it's the company rule."

"But you can stay inside?"

"Apparently."

"Wow, their worker's comp rates must be horrific."

At this point my other line rang and grubby business intervened. But, within the hour, I was able to call back:

"I was almost afraid to call your cell phone lest it set off an explosion." Come on. You've seen the signs at the gas stations, too, haven't you?

"Well, they're downstairs now."

"The supervisor and the kid."

"Yeah," said Long Suffering Spouse and there was some noise in the background. "I'll call you back."

No, the house didn't blow up! Honestly, you think that just because this is an anonymous blog I can just make stuff up like that?

The distraction was only the gas company employees emerging from the basement, pronouncing that the new doohickey that they needed to install had in fact been installed... and that there didn't seem to be a gas leak after all. But I'm still stuck on the fact that the kid from the gas company had to wait outside, while the potential victims of a gas explosion, er, residents of the household were permitted to remain therein. I guess it's a good thing we don't smoke, eh?