A Moving Story, Part 2

A Moving Story ,Stories
November 20, 2006

Part 1 of the story is here.
Part 3 of the story is here.

Apparently Destiny didn’t put up much of a fight or the colander on Jeff’s head had some extra-ordinary properties that gave him an edge in battle. +1 vs one of the Endless? Either way we ended up being doomed to pack and move our shit ourselves. On top of that, my landlady announced we had to repaint the place before we could leave; we (I) had done some renovations to the place (mostly just some new paint and ceiling fans) and I most certainly was NOT going to spend my weekend and money repainting those walls over. I was ready to just duck out on when when my next door neighbor saved the day. It turns out that Robin was moving in, she liked the paint job, and she wanted it as is. Our landlady warned her she would have to paint it when she left but apparently she was planning to duck out much like I was. I guess that’s classified as a win/win/lose.

Now one of the reasons we ended up moving ourselves was Jeff’s debit card got stolen (and abused) over the weekend so financing the move became extremely tricky. We tried contacting a discount place, Two Men and a Mule, but never got an estimate. Maybe they were on siesta, maybe they didn’t move gringos, maybe they weren’t even Mexican. Most likely they didn’t like the sound of “moving from a two story townhouse to third floor loft” because I know I sure as hell didn’t. Damn my honesty.

The morning of the move dawned clear and cool so we we headed over to UHaul to snag a truck. It put us a bit behind schedule; apparently discussing your boss’s colonoscopy is more important that helping customers. With the help of our dedicated friend Park we began loading the 24 foot UHaul at around 11.

And continued loading.
And loaded some more.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that we had slightly underestimated exactly how much junk we had to move. I gave away my queen sized bed frame, mattresses, futon, and futon chair and we STILL had too much. I even went so far as to throw my coffee table and nightstand into a dumpster which was probably “rescued” by some of my old neighbors as soon as we drove out of site. I was that desperate about not wanting to move it. By the time it was all loaded and we drove to the new place it was almost four and people were expected to show at six to help us unload. We were dirty, stinky, and exhausted from carrying things down from the second floor of the townhouse: the last thing we wanted to do was carry it up to the third floor at the new place by ourselves. We drove the UHaul over, made a few car trips to get last minute bits and settled down for a break. My sister showed up not too long after so we hit the store for steak and beer to bribe my future unpackers with…