This morning I got to play hero, ironically driving our electric car with our “Past Gas” license plate.

I was driving to work as usual when I turned off of Hillsborough Street onto Ashe Avenue, a spot where a new apartment building is going up. As I go by, I see a construction worker leap off a backhoe and race across the road. Others scurried away as well, eyes wide with fear. It was then that I smelled natural gas and realized the deafening roar I was hearing was the sound of a busted gas main. Yikes!

I rolled down the road for a moment or two while frantically fumbling to unlock my phone to dial 911 (I temporarily forgot I can do this from the locked screen, but whatever). I blurted out what I saw and heard to the dispatcher and gave my name and number. Though the dispatcher told me they were already sending someone out, I didn’t see or hear any first responders so I took matters into my own hands. I figured I might not be trained in how to direct traffic but any idiot can block traffic, so I pulled my car across the oncoming lane and got my geeky yellow safety vest and my emergency light out from the trunk.
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