Open letter to the city

You know, my dear city, this has just been a long series of days....I was looking forward to today, because I thought that you were going to send out an inspector to my house, check for any leaks in the gas line, give me a clean bill of health, and be on your merry way...all WITHOUT me having to be there.

Never did you call to schedule an appointment.

Never did you even hint about when you'd find the time to swing by.

You simply told me that you were too busy on Friday and might get to me on Monday.

Well, when I got home today, I saw that you'd left me a note. I was hoping that it said, "You're good to go! You're totally awesome! You're ACES!"

But no.

Apparently "Jim" told me, in all caps by the way, that "INSPECTOR NEEDS TO HAVE SOMEONE ACCOMPANY HIM FOR INSPECTION INSIDE THE HOME - RESCHEDULE."

Ok. Just a few things I'd like to point out:

1) I was told specifically by several plumbing entities that I need NOT be at the house when INSPECTOR came by.
2) There's a freaking GIANT gauge on the EXTERNAL gas line that clearly shows that it's holding 15 pounds of pressure, which I happen to understand is the correct reading of said gauge. This proves that there are no leaks in my house. Why would you need to come in? Why?!?!?
3) In order for me to REschedule, I would have first needed to SCHEDULE!!! Which, by the way, I tried to do countless times, failing at every single attempt. Scheduling was not this issue here, city. You and I both know that.

So "Jim" left his number. I called promptly after I got home from work...at which I worked NORMAL hours (i.e. 8-5)...which had me reading your note at 5:40PM today. Apparently, and I hope you know this, dear city, apparently Jim's normal working hours are 7AM to 3PM, and according to his voicemail, he's available to see customers Monday through Friday from 7-8AM.

Ah, lucky me.

LUCKY FREAKING ME!

This means, my best case for the next few days, as I see it, is as follows:
1) Jim checks his voicemail at 7AM tomorrow and he calls me.
2) I'm able to then schedule for Wednesday, if Jim's got a slot open in his busy schedule.
3) Jim comes out Wednesday and says everything is peachy.
4) I call the actual gas company on Wednesday and then ask them to come out to my house to actually turn the gas ON and they just might happen to have an opening on Thursday.
5) The gas company, who refuse to actually give you a window of time during which they will come to your house, calls me 30 minutes before they arrive at my house on Thursday.
6) I'm lucky enough to actually hear and respond to my phone while I'm at my office doing my JOB and the call comes conveniently at a point during my day at which I can sail down the freeway to my house in less than 25 minutes to meet the gas guy.
7) Gas guy waits for me to get there and is able to turn on my service.
8) I have hot water and a functioning stove by close of business Thursday.

But city, I know better. This is week #2 of this soap opera, and frankly, I know "best case" is probably more like "when pigs fly" so to be honest, I'm not going to get my hopes up. Getting my hopes up only means that they will be dashed against sharp, pointy, poison-coated rocks when just one of the above items fails to materialize. Getting my hopes up eventually winds up in a sorrowful, rage-filled phone call to my traveling husband in which I sound more like a sailor than an IT professional.

So no, my hopes will stay firmly on the ground, next to the gas pipe with the freaking GIANT gauge on it. That way, we may finally be able to meet in person.

What's that you say, city? You actually LIKE the look of my hair after I wash it in the sink because I personally refuse to take a cold shower in my own home? Why, thanks. That's kind of you. You probably never want me to have hot water again. Oh, and you're probably laughing your silly little head off about the brand new oven that is sitting in my shiny new kitchen completely USELESS, since it has no gas. You probably really like that, don't you.

Fine.

Be that way.

You showed me, didn't you.

We'll settle this at the gas gauge, city.