Wiwille smells

I helped someone move...again. Not that this fact in and of itself is all that surprising, or interesting for that matter, but there happened to be an event worth noting.

I pick up the UHaul for Amy and drive it to her place. Knowing full well that this may be one of the hottest days of the year she had the boxes already piled up outside ready to be loaded. Excellent. This should be an easy move.

The loading of the vehicle went well as Amy kept things organized. The unloading was far more interesting.

Amy is moving in with a gay couple and in case you had any doubt about their sexuality there was a signed Brokeback Mountain poster framed in their living room. We moved the furniture up three flights of stairs and were sweating profusely thanks to the heat. Some friends of Amy's, a nice couple, showed up to assist and couldn't have shown up at a better time. Amy's boyfriend was getting really tired and I smelled like ass.

After we were done all sat around and chatted. The girl who showed up started to make conversation.

"My stash is sweating," she proclaimed.

I looked her up and down wondering where the hell she could be carrying pot as her outfit had no pockets and left little to the imagination. I was confused.

"Your stash?"

"Yeah," she said as she rubbed her upper lip. "My mustache."

Amy's boyfriend and I look at each other. "Oooooohhhhhh," we said in unison. Apparently he was thinking the same thing as I was. We both declared that the girl was really cool.

I returned the UHaul without incident, but I realized my car was sitting in the heat for hours. Black leather interior does not do well in heat. I contemplated throwing a sheet over my car seat and driving naked home, but knowing my luck I probably would've been pulled over. Plus Amy was riding with me. She's a good friend and I didn't want to subject her to that.

"I think people are universal." - Ang Lee