The One With the Gas Man

Some mornings are calm. You ease into the day, maybe have a coffee, maybe pretend you’re about to be productive. This was not one of those mornings.

This was the morning where a man walked into my house and, within minutes, confidently decided I hadn’t paid my gas bill, despite all available evidence suggesting I very much had.

The day started with my annual gas safety check. It was booked for 9:30am, and the engineer turned up at 10:30am. Honestly, no issue. I didn’t have anywhere else to be, so it wasn’t exactly ruining my schedule.

Then I opened the door.

No introduction, no small talk. Just straight in with, “Is your heating on?”

It felt like I’d missed the first half of a conversation, but I went with it. I checked, and yes, the heating had just come on. He asked me to turn it off, which seemed reasonable enough, so I did.

Except that wasn’t enough.

Apparently, it needed to be properly off. Not thermostat-off. Not “it won’t heat anymore” off. The kind of off that requires a button that doesn’t exist on my boiler. After confidently telling me that all boilers have an off button, he came over to check and then immediately switched to, “Ah… one of those special ones that doesn’t have one.”

So we’d gone from absolute certainty to niche exception in about ten seconds.

He then moved on to the gas meter, poking around like something wasn’t quite right. After a bit of this, he asked how we pay for our gas. I explained that we pay quarterly, which is fairly standard.

His response was, “Well, you haven’t paid your bill then.”

That’s quite a leap. I explained that we had paid it. That we also have electricity with the same provider. That the lights were on. That the heating had literally just been on. That I’d used hot water that morning. None of that seemed to matter.

In his mind, the conclusion was already locked in: no gas meant unpaid bill.

At this point, I pointed out that there are ongoing gas works in the area. Roads dug up, traffic chaos, the whole lot. If there was an issue, it seemed far more likely it was related to that.

Nope. Still the bill.

I then mentioned I could see the pilot light on the boiler. A visible flame. Proof, surely.

He looked at it and said, completely seriously, “That’s not a real flame. It’s an LED designed to look like one.”

And that was the moment the whole thing snapped.

Because at that point, I’m no longer having a conversation about a gas check. I’m apparently being told my boiler is running on decorative lighting.

So I told him to leave.

Not dramatically, just firmly. This clearly wasn’t going anywhere useful. He wasn’t happy about it, did a bit of muttering on the way out, got in his van, and left.

I called the housing agency straight after and explained everything, and also made it very clear that I didn’t want him coming back.

This wasn’t even the first issue we’ve had with him. Previously, he fixed a broken sink and then reported us for having dirty dishes, which is impressive considering we couldn’t wash them because the sink was broken. He also claimed we’d somehow stuffed dozens of lollipop sticks down the drain within hours of moving in, which would have required a level of dedication to sweets that frankly I don’t have.

Anyway, later that day, there’s another knock at the door.

It’s him.

Back again.

This time, though, he’s had a revelation. After going to multiple houses and finding the same “no gas” issue, he started to suspect something might be off. So he checked his equipment.

Turns out his machine wasn’t working.

Meaning there was gas. There was never an issue. He’d just spent the morning confidently telling people they hadn’t paid their bills based on faulty equipment.

Which is… not ideal.

Shortly after, the housing agency called and asked if I’d let him back in quickly to finish the check. Reluctantly, I agreed, but with conditions. He checked the meter, didn’t go anywhere else in the house, and then left again.

Some days are uneventful. Others involve defending your honour, your gas supply, and the basic concept of fire before lunch.

If there’s a lesson in all this, it’s that confidence and correctness are not the same thing.

And if someone tells you your boiler flame is actually an LED, it might be time to show them the door.