Useless Fi has struggled to get up at 7am to avoid being in her nighty when meeting the gas man who is coming to replace her gas meter. She is now on her 3rd cup of tea and burning shirts as she attempts to iron. The gas man finally turns up at the door:
Practical Gas Man: Are you the Gas Meter?
Useless Fi: Ummm Yes.
Practical Gas Man: So where is it then, let’s have a look.
Useless Fi: Ummm (trying to smile winningly) I’m not actually sure where it is! I was hoping you might have some sort of innate ability to find it.
Practical Gas Man: (Silently judging) No. Can you show me?
Useless Fi: Is it this?
Practical Gas Man: No, that’s your stopcock.
Useless Fi: Is it this?
Practical Gas Man: No, that’s your boiler.
Useless Fi: Is it this?
Practical Gas Man: No love, that’s your fuse box.
Useless Fi: Ah. I don’t really have any more ideas.
Practical Gas Man: (Briefly raises eyes to heaven) Do you have a cellar?
Useless Fi: I don’t know.
Practical Gas Man: (Brief disbelief) I’ll see if I can find it.
Gas Man wanders off, finds some stairs, the cellar, and the gas meter. Does his stuff. Meanwhile Fi burns some more shirts. Gas Man returns and hands Fi some numbers which she immediately loses. Gas Man runs away.
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