My Life in Short Pants

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Jun 11
See this tweet?  See the date on this tweet?  May 29th.  Two weeks ago.
Two weeks ago New York was mired in a mini-heatwave.  On May 29th it hit 89, and it was humid as hell to boot.  I got home from work that night and my apartment smelled awful.  Positively awful.  Like there was a rotting carcass of an alien life form doused in sulfur and then hidden in a closet under a pile of hockey equipment.
I chalked this up to the fact that I live in an old building and it was disgustingly hot and humid outside.  Sometimes stuff just stinks, ya know?  I did my best to get rid of the smell, leaving windows open, blasting the A/C, and buying multiple air fresheners to cover it up.  Nothing worked.
I started searching for the source.  It seemed particularly strong in the kitchen, so I moved the oven and fridge around a bit to make sure there were no dead animals caught under there.  Took the garbage out every day.  Cleaned the sink.  Did everything I could.  Nothing helped.
On the bright side, I started to become accustomed to the smell, only noticing it for a brief period each time I entered my apartment.
But Max came over on Saturday night and recoiled the moment he set foot inside.  ”What the fuck is that?!  That is awful!”
"It’s not that bad," I replied.  "You get used to it quickly."
Max walked into my kitchen to get a beverage, and yelled to me.  ”You know, it kind of smells like gas in here.”
"No way," I yelled back from the living room.  "It’s smelled like this for two weeks."
I walked into the kitchen to check.
"…did you turn on the stove so I’d think I left the gas on for two weeks?"
"No."
"Jesus Christ."
"You should probably shut that off.  And open a window."

See this tweet?  See the date on this tweet?  May 29th.  Two weeks ago.

Two weeks ago New York was mired in a mini-heatwave.  On May 29th it hit 89, and it was humid as hell to boot.  I got home from work that night and my apartment smelled awful.  Positively awful.  Like there was a rotting carcass of an alien life form doused in sulfur and then hidden in a closet under a pile of hockey equipment.

I chalked this up to the fact that I live in an old building and it was disgustingly hot and humid outside.  Sometimes stuff just stinks, ya know?  I did my best to get rid of the smell, leaving windows open, blasting the A/C, and buying multiple air fresheners to cover it up.  Nothing worked.

I started searching for the source.  It seemed particularly strong in the kitchen, so I moved the oven and fridge around a bit to make sure there were no dead animals caught under there.  Took the garbage out every day.  Cleaned the sink.  Did everything I could.  Nothing helped.

On the bright side, I started to become accustomed to the smell, only noticing it for a brief period each time I entered my apartment.

But Max came over on Saturday night and recoiled the moment he set foot inside.  ”What the fuck is that?!  That is awful!”

"It’s not that bad," I replied.  "You get used to it quickly."

Max walked into my kitchen to get a beverage, and yelled to me.  ”You know, it kind of smells like gas in here.”

"No way," I yelled back from the living room.  "It’s smelled like this for two weeks."

I walked into the kitchen to check.

"…did you turn on the stove so I’d think I left the gas on for two weeks?"

"No."

"Jesus Christ."

"You should probably shut that off.  And open a window."


  1. lizlemon said: Holy crap… glad you aren’t dead?
  2. super-rad said: enjoy your national grid bill
  3. hitchcockismyhomeboy said: Oh em gee. But…did you not cook for the whole two weeks?! What am I missing here. (You’re a non-smoker, that’s for sure.)
  4. life-transposed said: you probably would have asphyxiated eventually. And gotten gnarly headaches!
  5. audsandends said: Holy shit, did you die?
  6. jumpingfeetfirst said: Yikes!
  7. cattinthecity said: gas smells like decomposing corpse?
  8. sweatshorts posted this