I Finally Got a Laugh,
or Why I know more about Propane Tanks than I ever wanted. . .
By 1pm I was as mad
as the proverbial wet hen, but the problem was I wasn’t wet; I wasn’t clean. I
hadn’t had a shower in 36 hours. The day before was Mark’s surgery and we had
spent well over 12 hours on the road and in William Beaumont Army Medical
Center. The next day, I decided to keep to my schedule and went to the gym, but
I was concerned about Mark being home alone. I skipped taking a shower at the
gym and made a quick stop at the commissary. After making lunch, I was ready to
take a nice HOT shower. I turned on the spout and waited for it to warm. And
waited, and waited and WAITED! Oh well, I thought, pilot light went out on the
water heater; no problem I have relit a water heater many times. Yes it became
a problem. That is when I realized we were out of propane; you know that gas
like fuel that sits in big white tanks. Apparently those tanks don’t fill
themselves from underground pipes like good old Midwest-using natural gas.
I made a call to the
propane provider listed in our lease paperwork. Unlike the electric company,
you don’t just call them up and have the account switched over. You have to do
the paperwork in person. You can imagine I am now tired, smelly and just a
little cold; No heat in the house either. Into the car I go and of course the
propane company is not close to our house. I am stewing; I am mad at Mark for
not doing this when he moved in; I am mad at the landlady for not briefing us
on how this works. As mad as I thought I was didn’t even compare how angry I
got at the manager of the company.
Now when I had
called, I was told that they would be able to get us fuel by the end of the
day. But as I filled out the paperwork, that little arrogant manager came in
and said they probably wouldn’t be able to get to it until tomorrow. “Everyone
wants it immediately. I don’t understand why everyone waits to the last minute.
I am not perfect. Only one person has ever been perfect and they put Him on a
cross.” I had heard enough. I couldn’t take it anymore. “I don’t know how to
read a propane tank. I am used to the gas coming through the ground.” Shoot, we
even grill with charcoal. “I am tired; I spent all day yesterday in El Paso; my
husband is housebound and on some serious pain killing meds, And I am cold. Just show me how to read the
gauge and I will get out of here” and yes I was getting louder and higher
pitched. I WAS SO MAD. I probably shouldn’t have driven home, but I did.
I was in tears by the
time I got back to the house. Good thing Mark was hobbled up. He was ready to
go back there and give someone a smack-down for making me cry. He has done that
a couple of times in our marriage. Less
than ½ hour later, Mark’s phone rings. It is a propane technician; he will be
by in 20 minutes. Will we be home? Yes, of course. 20 minutes later, there is
the nicest man. He will be giving us about 5 gallons of propane and that should
be enough to last until the big truck can get up here tomorrow. AND get this,
he will relight the water heater and make sure the furnace kicks back on.
As he walks into the
house to check on the heat he says, “Oh I know this house. Sharon (landlady)
always let the tank run out. And every tenant she has had since has done the
same. But don’t tell her I told you.” I
couldn’t help but laugh. That manager led me to believe only idiots let their
tanks run out. Richard, the technician, let me know that everyone does it; of
course he didn’t understand why they do it, but I certainly wasn’t the first
one. And would you believe, they were able to bring us 100 gallons of propane
by the end of the day. Did the tears and yelling work? I don’t know.
Now I know how to
lift the cover and read the gauge and I have set up a reminder on my iPhone to
alert me to check that tank periodically.
I will never run out
again and I will always have a hot shower when I want need it.
