tick tick boom!

(phone rings at 11:45ish. I answer. Brother.)

Me: ‘Lo?
J: Hey! It’s me! How’re you?
Me: (realizing no GOOD calls come at 11:45pm) Sleepy?
J: Okay. I got a call from {Neighbor, who is a friend of his}. He says he smells gas in his driveway and it smells like it’s coming from your house.
Me: Okay.
J: He’s calling the gas company, and he told me to tell you.
Me: Okay.
J: Okay?
Me: Yeah. G’night.

I survey the house and take sniff tests. Catbox. Lemon slices. I sniff around the basement, where our gaseous appliances live. Clean laundry. No gas.

I walk outside. Neighbor is in his driveway. He’s a great guy. I’ve known him since he was 10 or so. “Do you smell it?” I sniff around. Crispy winter air. Dampness. No gas.

Me: No.
Neighbor: I smell it here in my driveway. Smells bad. I called the gas company. They should be here any minute.
Me: Okay. I’ll wait inside.

So here I am…waiting to hear if there’s going to be a knock at my door. It’s been almost an hour. I’ll keep an eye on the small gray cat. I figure if there’s something toxic going on, she’ll collapse first. Right now she’s sitting next to my leg, drooling as she purrs. Sadly, that’s normal for her.

Update: 12:55am
I meandered downstairs after posting and peered out the window to find a man prowling about my lawn and Neighbor’s driveway with a flashlight. After ascertaining that he was from the Gas company (the truck gave it away) I poked my head out and asked if everything was okay. “Not a problem,” he replied with the tired voice of a man working at 12:50am. Good enough for me.

Good night.

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