This past Saturday, my husband and I spent the day visiting with friends. On our way home, we decided to grab a quick dinner at a newly discovered little pub that was quickly becoming our favourite place to eat. We enjoyed a nice leisurely meal and then made our way home.
As we entered the basement from our garage, we knew immediately that something was dreadfully wrong. A very strong smell of natural gas permeated the entire basement.
While my husband put our three cats in their cages and set them by the front door, I shut off the furnace and called the gas company’s emergency hotline. Fortunately, they were able to send someone out right away to check our equipment. Unfortunately, the technician found a gas leak above the internal shut off valve and also told us that our furnace was producing too much carbon monoxide. He was therefore required by law to shut our gas off from the outside, and we would need to call a licensed contractor to fix the leak before our gas could be turned back on.
As I stood looking at him blankly, wondering how to go about resolving this at 11 pm on a Saturday night, he gave me some additional parting advice about the importance of the repair technician knowing the pressure of the gas line before he turned the gas back on.
Turns out that being in the country, we’re on a higher pressured gas line than city homes. Because of this, a slightly different procedure was required to turn the gas back on. If this procedure wasn’t followed, we would hear a loud explosion much like a gunshot as the gas meter blew. But I didn’t need to worry, the technician reassured me, because the gas line wouldn’t actually explode, it would only sound like it. And then of course the gas meter would need to be replaced before the gas could be turned back on…
The Enbridge technician was very professional as I thanked him in earnest for that very useful piece of trivia, but I’m sure he was laughing his ass off as he pulled out of our driveway.
With so many windows, the main floor was beginning to cool down quickly. So, I wasted no time jumping onto the computer and asking Google to find me a contractor who worked weekends. I managed to get hold of a very nice man named Terry, who came out the next day to do the necessary repairs.
I think I kind of annoyed Terry by following him outside and reminding him yet again about the high pressure gas line and the special turn-on process. Like the Enbridge technician, Terry was also very professional when speaking with me, but he couldn’t quite conceal his grin as I took two quick steps backwards just before he turned the gas back on.
I’ll bet he too was laughing his ass off he drove away.
