“Then I went and spoiled it all by doing something stupid like explode you” – Sideshow Bob
My mother’s big idea, when I was remodeling the kitchen, was ovens in the wall.
“Get ovens in the wall,” she’d say.
So I got the wall ovens…and, by default, ended up with a countertop range thing, with cabinets underneath.
From the day they were installed, I’ve smelled gas under there.
“Hey, do you smell gas under there?” I’d ask anyone who cared to listen.
“No. You’re crazy,” they’d say.
Now, I’ve heard that diagnosis before, so I ignored the smell.
I packed my groceries under there, and held my breath whenever I went to retrieve something.
There is no suffocating gas small, Dawn. It’s all in your head.
Well, after seven months of the gas smell being in my head, I decided to tell the contractor about it.
He has one more thing to finish, before I can wash my hands of him and I figured, while he’s here, I would have him check out the stove.
“No problem,” he said, “just leave the manual for the range where I can see it and I’ll look into it.”
That was the first week of September.
I told my mom that the contractor would be finishing up and that I asked him to double check the stove.
“Oh good, cause I smelled a little gas under there.”
“WHAT? You said you didn’t smell anything?!!!”
“Well, I thought you’d make him take the wall ovens out and I liked them.”
Anyway, now I am super happy that the contractor was coming the next day to check it out. I wasn’t crazy and there was gas leaking.
Of course, I don’t even know why I was surprised when I came home and the manual had not moved from where I had left it.
The gas smell was still there.
I called him up.
“Oh, things were crazy here. I’ll come tomorrow.”
“OK, cause I am having guests in late October, so I’ll be needing to take the key back from you by then.”
“Oh, don’t worry, we won’t come anywhere close to October.”
Right. Of course, he probably meant cause he wouldn’t be back till March or April of ’07.
Anyway, my guests are here, I have my key back and I am still stuck with the gas smell.
But since I have grown accustomed to it, I wasn’t worried.
Until my guests were like, umm…Dawn…you have a gas leak in the kitchen…you should call the gas company.
Now, I have no recollection of ever paying a gas bill. And, to be honest, have no idea who the gas company is — but I figured it was time to address this problem.
I called the contractor and it went straight to his voicemail.
“Bah…nuts to this.” I hang up.
Perhaps leaving a ‘Bah, nuts to this,’ message on his voicemail.
I then google gas company and Brooklyn and find out that there’s only one.
I ring them up.
“Hi…are you my gas company?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I haven’t paid any gas bills…I just turn on the stove and it comes out…so I don’t know who puts it there…”
“Where do you live?”
“Yes, we are.”
“Oh, is there only one company for Brooklyn?”
“Well, ok…I kinda smell gas…can I make an appointment for someone to check it out?”
“Ma’am, gas leaks are very serious. We don’t make appointments. We send someone immediately. What is your location?”
I give him my address. He verifies the apartment and then he gives me a litany of very important instructions.
“Please ventilate the area, turn off all appliances, move all switches to the off position, do not unplug or plug in any plugs, extinguish any open flames, do not strike any matches, and absolutely no smoking in the area. Our man will be there in less than one hour. Do you understand?”
I am going to die a fiery explosive death.
I went to the kitchen, opened all the windows and balcony doors.
I have been flipping on switches and operating appliances and plugging things in and letting people smoke for MONTHS!!!!!
I live in a death trap.
I am currently blogging from under my bed.
God bless us all.
Except the contractor.