129. Safety issues (1)

I am in my bed with a cup of tea waiting for inspiration to strike when there's a knock at the door. The house being rather full of young, dynamic people it is not being unreasonable of me to think that one of them is going to attend to the matter. 

But the knocking is getting louder, sure sign that the young people are otherwise engaged. So I get myself out of bed, thinking about the lost blog post. I go to the front window ready to shout at people in the street, feeling like some Italian mama . But the poor man down there looks apologetic and so I calm down, after all he cannot possibly know he is knocking at the door of a blogger.

'Hello!' I say. At least there is not a ladder up against my house this time. 'What is the matter? I'm busy WFH right now so ...'

'Hello! I'm so sorry to disturb you ... It's just that ...'

I am so pleased this professional man is actually taking me seriously that I don't hear what he has to say.

'What was that?' I ask again, trying to sound as if I have so much on my mind and wishing I had my mobile in my hand.

'It's just that we've spotted a gas leak at this address and we need to attend to it.'

My goodness! A gas leak! As in gas that explodes and boom? I retreat inside, bang the window shut in his face, rush back to the bedroom to get the bottom part of me dressed and head down the stairs screaming at the top of my voice.

'EVERYONE GET OUTSIDE! THE HOUSE IS ABOUT TO BLOW UP!'

But no-one moves. Worse, when I get to the door the man is nonchalantly leaning against the wall as if nothing was the matter.

'How much time do we have?'

He looks at me, one eyebrow raised. 

'How much time do we have? To clear the house? Before it all blows up! ... '

He laughs. He actually laughs! I mean where do they get these people? Do they train them to laugh so that a general panic is avoided?

'Ha ha! Don't worry! It's not dangerous. It's just that the sniffer truck was here and picked up some gas smell.'

The sniffer truck? What on earth is a sniffer truck? Is this guy making fun of me? 

'I'm sorry but ... do you have any identification? ... You know, so I can see what gas board you're working for.' Meaning of course that I doubt he is working for a gas board at all.

'No, I don't. Sorry.'

There. I knew it. I am just about to tell him that I have a blog to write and that I cannot be wasting my precious time on such scams when I see a short dishevelled man, looking, as I must do, as if he has just fallen out of bed.

'But my colleague does. There he is.'

'Gas Board of France.' He says grandly, shoving his badge under my nose. 

I look at it, my eyes going from the plastic badge to his face and back as I have seen custom officers do. But I am not a custom officer and I cannot even tell whether it is the same guy or not. 

'Ok. That's good.' I lie. 'So what's all this about the sniffing?'

Then the two of them go on telling me that specially equipped trucks drive around the whole of the country sniffing randomly just in case they pick up traces of gas ... I am thinking the badge might be a fake one and I am staring at it to see if there is a seal or a chip of some sort. Then I say:

'Like the Google car?'

'Yep! That's it!' The guy is pleased with himself, the explanations he gave were obviously clear enough even for the mad woman (me) to understand. 

'They've sniffed gas. Here.' He points at the ground at his feet near my front door. And only then do I notice the neon yellow and orange lines on the ground. It dawns on me that the badge is real, the sniffer truck is real and so the gas leak is real ...