For a change all of the ozone-killing gas in my town isn’t coming from the belching dairy cows (which might outnumber people around here).
No, instead it’s coming from the massive hole which was punched into the gas line. The hole about the diameter of a large bowling ball. In the gas main less than a block from my apartment.
The gas rushing out of the hole is incredibly loud. It sounds like an airliner is warming up just outside my window.
The street is blocked off and there are police and firemen standing around everywhere. They all tell me that there’s no danger (“…just don’t light the BBQ or anything…”) and that the sea breezes are blowing the gas away (“…for now…”) and that, anyway, “…nothing has blown up.” These are actual quotes. Note: Nowhere in the phrase “To Protect and Serve” does it include the word “Reassure.”
So, um…yeah. In truth my main concern right now is the noise. If they can’t plug that hole (or…and here’s a crazy idea…TURN OFF THE BLOODY GAS) then there’s no way I’ll be able to get any sleep tonight. As a last resort a certain geriatric feline and I might be taking a trip down to the office to sack out on my couch there.