Grab a bowl of warm can o’ worm stew off the stove, and please make sure you only take what you can eat…there is plenty, but we want everyone to get their fair share. Yum! Oh, and there’s some (Canadian) almost-beer in the cooler to choke it down with. (You’re welcome NB) Then pull up your favorite soap-opera-watching-tv-chair ’cause we’re ready to go.
As we return to our saga…we are about to enter the Final Act, which, you’ll recall, has been referred to as the “then shit REALLY got interesting” act. This is an act of more than one part…so we’ll begin with part I:
After months of searching and a dozen or more unanswered emails and phone calls, as well as the same amount saying they’d love to help but they don’t service our area, I finally found a moving company to pack us, load us, and deliver us from evil….I mean from the north.
I did my due diligence, checked BBB (a couple of issues, but nothing unresolved), checked previous client testimonials (no red flags there), did a background check on the owner, who seemed a long-standing professional in her field. Though I’d never heard of them, they were a national mover, based in Florida, but serviced more than their fair share of relocations from the northeast.
Cool. And. Phew.
I mean, we were right down to the wire and I was so thrilled to have the worst of the moving process settled..someone to pack the stuff, load the stuff, and deliver the stuff. Not cheap, but not out of line with the current industry rates either.
Moving day is here! YAY
Zero degrees outside and I know once they are here the heat will go off because the door will be open, but so what? I am so excited it’s finally happening that I don’t care. Coats, scarves, gloves inside? Psshaw…nothing to it.
I’d spent the previous two days making sure all was ready for them. Nothing on the walls, soft goods tucked neatly in drawers, like items all in one place, kitchen gadgets and little bits placed in baggies for easy packing, all important papers and cables, etc. boxed and in my car, bottled water aplenty, toilet paper left on the holder for those special moments…what more could I ask for. I was breathing easy and actually looking forward to the crew’s arrival…
Promptly at 9am
No – slightly late at 11am
Whoops – damned late at 1:30pm
Shit – you’re so damned late why bother showing up at all friggin’ late at 2:30pm. (And they show up in a truck too small by half and already half full!)
Says the husband:
“No fucking way will our stuff fit in THAT!”
Says the wife:
“Now, now Dear (teehee, not really), let’s give them the benefit of the doubt. You know how movers are…they can fit 50 pounds of shit in a 5 pound bag. It’s an art!”
Says the diver: (at least this is what we think he said)
“Slept late, so sorry. Phone didn’t work, please excuse. Needed to stop and buy work boots, so glad we passed a Wal-Mart on the way here.”
Uh Huh. Okay then, daylight’s at a premium up here in the Northeast Kingdom this time of year, so they best get cracking if anything was to be done with what was left of the day (which, as it turned out for them, was about 4 hours, the last 3 of which were in the dark! More on this in Part II).
Time to get rolling on the process, the paperwork, and to get the crew working on bringing in boxes and packing material.
We get the process explanation (sorta); no sign of the crew.
We get the paperwork and the explanation of that (sorta); no sign of the crew.
We get frustrated with the back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, due to a language/communication problem (sorta); still no sign of the crew.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, seems the driver had told his two-man-crew to stay put while he got the paperwork done (one hour and one translator later). We are now at 3 dark thirty, which is fine for packing inside, but shit for loading a truck with overhead lights blocked by the previously loaded job. By damn-ass-dark thirty, an hour later still, all that had been accomplished was bringing boxes and ‘some’ packing material inside rendering what little floor space left, utterly useless.
Hmmm, where to find room to tape these boxes together. Hmmm, I know, let’s not worry about that now. Let’s start wrapping some furniture and taking it out to the truck. Yes…let’s do that. Let’s fill the nooks and crannies usually filled in nicely with boxes with MY FURNITURE instead because you can’t get to your job on time, can’t get your crew working without your paperwork being done, you can’t speak English, and can’t get your head out of your ass long enough to see it’s FUCKING PITCH BLACK OUT THERE!
More in part II…I’ll save some stew 🙂
18 thoughts on ““As the Shade Spins Some More””
I forwarded this to Sid – too funny. He’s now in FB just like your dear ole dad! I can’t wait for the next chapter! Love ya, Jo
Sent from my iPad
I’m just glad I can laugh now…stay tuned though. 😉
(love that sid and dad are both on FB…lol)
Grrrrr – I already want to kill the driver!
Join the club…or grab a club. One or the other. Gets better…
Save the WORM (??) stew for those movers!! Have had two harrowing cross country moves…feelin’ your pain sister!
Bon, I’ve moved more times than I have fingers and toes…THIS has been my one and only true “adventure in moving”….stick around, gets better!
Eyes wide open..following along. Just glad I know you didn’t end up in a ditch somewhere. Wait, you didn’t right? xoox
ha…didn’t you read the last installment? lol
Not yet! Soon! Uh-oh!
yeah…rut roh. lol
I’m guessing this company won’t be getting a recommendation from you anytime soon?
Oh, they’ve gotten ‘something’, just NOT that! 😉
Ay yay yay! YIKES! Anxiously waiting round 2 or is it 3?
LOL. It’s 2 (of how many I do not know!)…working on it as we speak…:)
Keep on trucking…whoops sorry, pun and giggle intended. xo
ha! always welcome the giggles. xo
Almost-beer? It’ll have to do. It’s all about the company anyhow…
this story does not sound like it will end well. first ,the lateness, then the small truck, then the run-around… oh boy… waiting to see where the busted leg comes into this…
stay tuned…it’s coming