I was in the middle of making a pot of vegetable soup when my stove quit. No problem. The primary tank is empty, and the gas supply needs to be switched over to the secondary tank. I called out to my beloved and sent him tromping down the stairs to accomplish the task. I waited at the stove for a fresh supply of fuel so I can finish cooking lunch. And waited. And waited. Finally, Chuck comes back upstairs and tells me both tanks are empty.

We live on a very narrow road on a very steep hill, so the gas guy doesn't come cruising past our house four times a day like most other homes. He will usually stop at the top of the hill for about 30 minutes three times a week. Whenever we empty a tank, I usually keep watch for the next few days and flag him down when I see him. Somehow, I forgot last time.

Six months ago, this would have sent me into a panic. My choices at this point are wait up to 3 days to flag down the gas man, during which time I can't cook and have no hot water, or call the gas company and ask for delivery. In Spanish. On the phone. Where I don't have the benefit of charades to help me through.

It was the prospect of having cold showers for three days that pushed me over the edge. I called. But I didn't do it solo. We put the phone on speaker so Chuck could help me in case I couldn't understand what the other person was saying. There are several to choose from, but the gas company we use is Gaspasa. The telephone number is 981.05.05. Here's how it went:

Gas Operator: Buenas Tardes, (something unintelligible) Gaspasa (something unintelligible)

Great. I'm off to a spectacular start. But I take a deep breath and plunge in.

Me: Buenas Tardes. Necesito dos tanques de gas a mi domicilio, por favor. (Good afternoon. I need two tanks of gas at my house please.)

Gas Operator: ¿Telefono? (Telephone number?)

Good. We're starting off with an easy one. Not only do I know my telephone number, I can say my numbers in Spanish.

Gas Operator: ¿Que calle? (what street?)

Another easy one. I am starting to think I might make it through this phone call.

Gas Operator: ¿Numero? (Number?)

Me: Seis.

Gas Operator: ¿tres?

Me: ¡Seis!

Gas Operator: ¿tres?

At this point, I am starting to think I may never get a hot lunch, but I try one more time, speaking as slowly and precisely as I can.

Me: ¡Seis!

Gas Operator: ¿seis?

Me: (big gush of relief) ¡SI!

Gas Operator: ¿Colonia? (What part of the city?)

Me: Centro.

Gas Operator: (something unintelligible)

I look at Chuck. He looks at me and shrugs.

Me: Repete, por favor. (Repeat, please. Which, while technically correct, is not what is commonly used here. What I should have said was mande, which directly translates to "command me", but the locals use like we use "what?" in the US when we don't understand somebody.)

Gas Operator: ¿Un cilindro? (one cylinder?)

Me: dos. (two.)

Gas operator: Viente minutos. (twenty minutes.)

Whew. I made it through the telephone call. And best of all, 15 minutes later, the gas guy showed up with two 30 kilo tanks of gas and swapped ours out.