GASLIGHTED BY THE GAS METER

About four months ago: Postcard arrives in the mail.  I must schedule an appointment to get my gas meter changed to a new one.  I call the gas company. 

ME:  I don't own the house.
THEM:  It doesn't matter.  Gotta be done.
ME:  I don't own the house.
THEM:  We'll need to get into your house.
ME:  For the love of ... I don't OWN the house.
THEM:  Gas in your name?
ME:  Yes.
THEM:  Then we're coming in to change the meter in your house.
ME:  I don't own the house.
THEM:  Do you pay for the gas?
ME:  Yes, but --
THEM: -- And the account is in your name?
ME:  Fine.  When will you be here?

About two months ago:  My sister is visiting.  I cannot leave the house for four hours to eat dinner, nor can I cook dinner.  Why?  Because the gas company is coming to swap out my meter.  No one shows.  I call the gas company. 

THEM:  Our guy was there.  No one was home.
(I go on seven minute tirade in which every swear ever invented, some in different languages, comes out of my mouth.)
THEM:  Bitch, you CRAY-CRAY.  We gonna give you $50 in your account to STFU, girl.  But, if you don't let us in to change over the meter, we gonna shut down your gas.  How do you like them apples?
ME:  Shove them apples up your ass, bitch.
THEM:  Say, what?!
ME:  I said, "Come on back and let's do this meter change thing."

Today:  I put signs all over the place -- out front on the stone wall, on the fence post, on the house, on the side of the house, on the door.  Finally, the guy shows up.  He tells me he had a close encounter with my landlady the last time he was here.  I don't understand what my landlady has to do with this.  My name is on the account; I pay the bill; even though I do not own the house, the gas company is definitely coming to the house.  They guy seems legit, pleasant, even.  I cannot imagine how or why the landlady would turn him away the first time, though.  He replaces the meter, reignites the various pilot lights, and heads off on his merry way about fifteen minutes later. 

A few hours go by, and I am stepping out of a shower when the phone rings.  I don't have on my glasses, plus it's foggy in the bathroom since I never remember to turn on the fan until after I shower, anyway.  Not sure who it is, I answer it.  It's the landlady wanting to know why the gas company is on her property.  I tell her the saga of "not my house, not my meter, please don't shut off my gas."

LANDLADY:  That idiot was here a few weeks ago, skulking around the other side of your building and looking into the windows of the empty townhouse next door.  I asked him who he was and what he was doing, and he refused to tell me, so I booted him off the property.


And people wonder why I have to put out signs for clarity.  FML.