Hey everyone, hope you all had a good weekend. Mine was interesting... to say the least – I did a number of things. First, I helped my friend The Great White Hope and his very pregnant wife move. We discussed this plan earlier in the week and we decided to take care of everything on Saturday. I arrived at his apartment early Saturday morning; ready to get the show started so I could have the rest of my day to chill.
That was the wrong thing to assume seeing that not a box was packed in the entire household. Great White assured me that it was nothing and it would be an easy move. Rule of thumb: When someone assures you of something like this, chances are they are lying to you. As I began to exert my energy, picking up table after table, I asked Great White when the rest of the help was coming. He looked at me quizzically and told me that it was just us but we could handle it easily in an hour, hour and a half at the most. This is usually the point in time where angry Jorge surfaces and begins to bitch-slap Great White for not being prepared to move.
Angry Jorge has arrived, folks!
While this is all going on, Great White’s turd of a dog gets out and starts running around like she’s being chased by the cops. She starts barking like crazy until she gets to my leg, where she starts licking me like I’m a giant doggie biscuit.
Get the hell away from me, crazy dog… I’ll punt you down the street. Needless to say, this adventure slowed is down quite a bit but know that, I was not deterred. Sweaty, sticky from doggie saliva and visibly peeved, I kept working diligently.
Finally, we got everything loaded into the truck ---- 3 ½ hours later.
We hit the road – and Great White assures me that this will be a quick trip. Suuuuuuuuurrrrrrrreeeee… and Michael Jackson really is Black.
Forty-five minutes later we arrive at our destination… and to my horror, I discover that we are miles from regular civilization. We pull up to the new house and people start glaring from their porches. I am bit nervous – the place looks like it should be somewhere in the Jim Crow 60’s, right down to the segregated water fountains. I swear I saw someone making a knot in a rope…
After checking my pants to see if I still had control of all of bodily functions, I ran to the back of the truck and started moving things out like clockwork… you know before the “welcome wagon” came. We’re moving in everything so much quicker than we moved out – things are good --- until a mosquito the size of my head tried to attack Great White. He screamed like a virgin when she first gets her cherry popped (with no lubrication). Did I mention I was holding the couch at the time? Sonuvabitch!
By this time, I was extra pissed so I think I started to slam boxes down. Sorry about the dishes, Great White. Great White sensed my animosity so he began to hasten his work as well. We finished everything in about thirty minutes --- and headed back to the city.
RING! RING!
It’s Great White’s wife. She asks us to make a detour at her friend’s house to pick up a bassinet for the baby --- so we head over to collect it. It takes us about twenty minutes out of the way but it’s cool… it’s the last thing we have to do.
We arrive at the friend’s house and see no cars in the driveway. Hmm, that’s interesting – there are no cars here… surely someone must be home. Alas, Great White rings the doorbell and --- you guessed it… no one answered. Great White calls his wife back and she tells him to check to see if the garage door was locked. I decide to stay in the truck for this one… something is not kosher about people pulling up garage doors without the owner’s being present. Great White, walk away from the door quickly.
Turns out the door was open (needless to say, we weren’t in the hood), but the bassinet wasn’t in there. Oh, well… I’m just glad we finally finished… in the future; I will not be taking any requests for moving. I’ll talk to y’all later. I have a date with some Icy Hot and a bathtub from Epsom Salt.
Bruised and amused until Thursday,
Jorge
That was the wrong thing to assume seeing that not a box was packed in the entire household. Great White assured me that it was nothing and it would be an easy move. Rule of thumb: When someone assures you of something like this, chances are they are lying to you. As I began to exert my energy, picking up table after table, I asked Great White when the rest of the help was coming. He looked at me quizzically and told me that it was just us but we could handle it easily in an hour, hour and a half at the most. This is usually the point in time where angry Jorge surfaces and begins to bitch-slap Great White for not being prepared to move.
Luckily for him, I was in a good mood and I prepared myself for the worst. I just accepted this and continued to move things as rapidly as I could. Great White’s wife kept offering verbal encouragement: Come on, guys – you can do it! We’re almost done in here! Look, this stuff is heavy and I’m starting to sweat like I’m being interrogated. I can do without your shrill “Go Team Go” cheers in my ear every 5 seconds.
Angry Jorge has arrived, folks!While this is all going on, Great White’s turd of a dog gets out and starts running around like she’s being chased by the cops. She starts barking like crazy until she gets to my leg, where she starts licking me like I’m a giant doggie biscuit.
Get the hell away from me, crazy dog… I’ll punt you down the street. Needless to say, this adventure slowed is down quite a bit but know that, I was not deterred. Sweaty, sticky from doggie saliva and visibly peeved, I kept working diligently.Finally, we got everything loaded into the truck ---- 3 ½ hours later.
We hit the road – and Great White assures me that this will be a quick trip. Suuuuuuuuurrrrrrrreeeee… and Michael Jackson really is Black.
Forty-five minutes later we arrive at our destination… and to my horror, I discover that we are miles from regular civilization. We pull up to the new house and people start glaring from their porches. I am bit nervous – the place looks like it should be somewhere in the Jim Crow 60’s, right down to the segregated water fountains. I swear I saw someone making a knot in a rope…After checking my pants to see if I still had control of all of bodily functions, I ran to the back of the truck and started moving things out like clockwork… you know before the “welcome wagon” came. We’re moving in everything so much quicker than we moved out – things are good --- until a mosquito the size of my head tried to attack Great White. He screamed like a virgin when she first gets her cherry popped (with no lubrication). Did I mention I was holding the couch at the time? Sonuvabitch!
By this time, I was extra pissed so I think I started to slam boxes down. Sorry about the dishes, Great White. Great White sensed my animosity so he began to hasten his work as well. We finished everything in about thirty minutes --- and headed back to the city.
RING! RING!
It’s Great White’s wife. She asks us to make a detour at her friend’s house to pick up a bassinet for the baby --- so we head over to collect it. It takes us about twenty minutes out of the way but it’s cool… it’s the last thing we have to do.
We arrive at the friend’s house and see no cars in the driveway. Hmm, that’s interesting – there are no cars here… surely someone must be home. Alas, Great White rings the doorbell and --- you guessed it… no one answered. Great White calls his wife back and she tells him to check to see if the garage door was locked. I decide to stay in the truck for this one… something is not kosher about people pulling up garage doors without the owner’s being present. Great White, walk away from the door quickly.
Turns out the door was open (needless to say, we weren’t in the hood), but the bassinet wasn’t in there. Oh, well… I’m just glad we finally finished… in the future; I will not be taking any requests for moving. I’ll talk to y’all later. I have a date with some Icy Hot and a bathtub from Epsom Salt.
Bruised and amused until Thursday,
Jorge
Sorry that you had to suffer this weekend! Know you know that someone owes you when you need help moving! Hope the Icy Hot and Epsom salt worked!
ReplyDeleteMan, I hate it when people want help moving but they aren't ready. I also understand how hard it is to get help when you move away from your poeps' though.
ReplyDeleteGood thing you didn't open that garage door. The "Negro" alarm would have gone off, and you would have been writing this blog from a Tennessee state correctional facility.
John Coffey - I am not... I'm too pretty to be on lockdown!!!
ReplyDeleteWhat was the point of this blog?I need life altering convo while I'm at work pretending to work,not what you did this weekend,nukka.You didn't help me move when I was pregnant.what's the deal?Go lay your butt down.That was the exercise for all the other days last week you DIDN'T!!LOL!!
ReplyDeleteSo what...you ain't gon' help me move my washer & dryer down four flights of stairs next month?
ReplyDeleteman.... i soooooooo glad the next time I move i will be in the position to pay someone...that and the fact that none of the people that helped me have access to blogs like this to talk about me....anyway....your friends didnt offer you any fired chicken? i mean when i had Renegade Muzik to move me for the second time in two months, well... i had my roommate right there to fry him chicken and make him some rice with gravy...while "stroking" his ego.... oh well...now that you know...guess i cant ask YOU to help me next summer when i move huh?
ReplyDeleteMiles from regular civilization, huh... You were in Happy Valley, weren't you? And you didn't even say hello :(
ReplyDeleteSooooo, you renege on helping me move? Slacker.
ReplyDeletePeople think I'm an asshole because of the moving issue. In fact, when I first meet people, this is what I say:
ReplyDelete"Hello, my name is Eddie! If you ever need to move anything, don't call me because I don't move people. Not even myself. When I move, I either sell off everything and buy new stuff, or I pay people to move it for me. Period!
I can really relate, as I've been my family's favorite day laborer for over 20 years. I guess because you're a big dude you must love lifting heavy shit or something. Nobody takes a minute to think "hey, this dude is already carrying an extra 200 pounds , maybe he doesn't like extra weight on his back!)
ReplyDeleteI have since learned my lesson, and gotten a Doctor's note explaining why I can't help cheap people move, best move of my life
awe...that sucks..I hate moving, my worse is all my clothes...usually its just me and my sister moving with no man help so that sucks, but last time I paid my brother to help...I just couldn't do it alone. lol
ReplyDeleteyeah the clothes thig is really hard too... i moved once with all my clothes on the hangers, like, why pack them up? and my friends just thought it was funny...until they realized i didnt quite have the closet space i thought i did....and yeah...i'll make sure one of my friends hook you up...just like my other friend got from the roommate from hell...just wont let them stalk you like she did him...
ReplyDeleteStalking roommate...WTF
ReplyDeleteI can say that I am all for solo moving. I am too impatient to wait on others. By the time they show up, I am pissed to the utmost pisstivity which, in turn, pisses them off. Go figure.
ReplyDeleteSince we are on the subjsct, though, does anyone know of companies that move across state lines? I am relocating my belongings soon. Unless you all want to help for the free free. I will feed and entertain. I guess that makes it not so free, huh. Let me know if you are anxious and able to partake in such excitement.