Finally got my baked beans in the oven last Sunday, which is no easy feat. It takes two days to get them ready. What with having to soak them overnight and all. At any rate, half way through I noticed that the oven was getting cooler. Wouldn’t you know it, out of gas.
There is no central gas company down here for LP. One has a tank, in my case 20 kilos, and when that is empty you have to replace it. There are no gauges or anything, you only know you need it when it runs out.
The gas company that services the island used to come around in their truck, playing a little song that everybody recognized as the gas truck. They did this every day of the week. When you heard it, you ran to your curb and flagged them down. No big deal. Not anymore.
Awhile back the assholes powers that be decided to make us come to them. So they just parked their truck downtown in a vacant lot and you would have to drag your tank to them. That’s how I got my last tank. Sometime since then they changed the rules again. Now they have a little drop box and you fill out the card placed there and the next day they would deliver your gas.
B&L went down there on Monday morning to fill out the card. Guess what? No cards and the box that held them was full of water from all the rain we have been getting. So they left our name, address and telephone number on a slip of paper and put it in the box. All day Monday we waited, being sure that somebody was home all day. No gas.
I then heard that they don’t do this anymore. Now you have to take your tank to the car ferry when it comes in from Cancun in the morning and they will change it out there in the parking lot. What a bunch of rigamarole.
So this morning I loaded the tank in the back seat of the car and drove down there and waited in the hot sun with the rest of the people waiting for gas. I did get my new tank so at least we can cook again. And it only took three days.
As an aside, a friend of mine was there and needed a ride home with his tank. On the way, I asked him how much he paid for his tank, since it was the same size as mine. “180 pesos”, he replied. (divide by 10 for $)) I was appalled. They charged me 192 pesos! What we affectionately call “Gringo prices” here. It just burns my butt.