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.
Yesterday I spent the evening moving the Mattbear clan. Of course it had to be on the hottest day of the year. I was a smelly mess when I finally arrived home.
I help about half a dozen people move a year, but I always learn something on each load of a U-Haul. Below are some things I experienced last night:
- I don't care how much they deny it, Mattbear and his wife feed their dog meth. - Mattbear's wife could probably bench press me. - On the first run I was sandwiched in between Mattbear and Launchpad in the cab of the U-Haul. Three heavy sweaty guys in a vehicle is not the most pleasant experience. Ann Hathaway probably could've been straddled on the hood of the truck wearing a Wonder Woman outfit and calling on me to do things to her that are illegal in 11 states and I still would not have been aroused. - One of Mattbear's friends arrived and has the ability to out speak your average cattle auctioneer. He went into almost creepy detail about how he'd get rid of the body of a girl that he has a disdain for. Disturbing, but in a pinch I'll take his advice.
It's always an adventure with Wiwille's Moving Service.
"Friends help you move. Real friends help you move bodies." - Unknown
It may surprise some of you that I can be prone to doing acts of kindness. Yes your scruffy fat author here can help those he feels in need and this was apparent this weekend.
As some of you are aware Andrea and Justin are relocating to Reno. Because I seem to be the go to guy for assisting with moving I offered to help load the truck. Most people are opposed to helping their buddies pack furniture, but I look at the bright side. I get free food and alcohol.
Considering I've helped Andrea move every year since I've met her she decided to recruit others to assist with the drive to Reno Unfortunatley the people she had lined up fell through. Since I offered to assist if things went awry they called me on Thursday and asked if I could pack the truck on Saturday, drive a pickup to Reno, unload the furniture, then fly back to Seattle on Sunday night.
Man that's a long trip. Do I really want to assist with this? Should I just say no?
I said yes.
Saturday I woke up and found to my surprise we had numerous people helping load the vehicle. Hauling furniture down three flights of stairs was a bit of a workout as to be expected, but it went slow as keeping everyone on task was more of a chore than one would think. We finally finish at around 2p. Andrea in her car, Justin in the Budget Rent-A-Truck, and I in his pickup started the journey south to Reno.
11:30 pm rolls around. We finally made it to Grant's Pass, Oregon. I was beat. I'm clearly getting to old for this. I spent the evening on the cell phone having people keep me company as I travel down the freeway without cruise control or a CD player. I sang silly songs on the radio and annoyed friends with my renditions of 'King of the Road' and the like. I must've been a sight to every passing motorist.
Before hitting the town we pulled into a tiny area that consisted mostly of a truck stop and an adult shop. I forgot how those places are a treasure trove of consumer goodness. I jump out of the pickup to start filling it up, but forgot that Oregon doesn't let you pump your own gas.
The store was filled with items that blew my mind. They had DVDs, LCD monitors, various electronics, remote control cars the size of a small child, religious literature and t-shirts, an arcade, snack bar, and large selection of snacks. I want to start another blog and journey to every truck stop documenting all the goodies I could find.
Below are some sound bytes from various friends who learned of my trek:
"Duuuuuude you are fucking crazy." "Ha. I knew you'd end up going to Reno." "Oh....my.....God....." "Are they going to get you a lap dance?" "1...2...Freddy's after you." "You just called and sang 'head, shoulders, knees and toes' and hung up."
After a night of sleeping on the hide a bed I woke to the alarm on my phone. I lied on what was the equivalent of concrete covered with astro turf debating on whether smashing the phone into a thousand pieces was a good idea. I decided against a violent outburst at an inatimate object.
We had a continetal breakfast which consisted of biscuits and gravy and toast. We then pack into our vehicles and make the last leg of our journey. We stop in Weed, California and of course cracked various juvenile jokes about the town's namesake.
Finally we got to the highway leading from I-5 to Reno. The drive turned from dull to beautiful as we were passing through Shasta and Lasser National Forrests. At times the scenery was so pretty I wanted to pull over the truck and quit my life in Seattle and spend the rest of my days as a ranch hand. It was truly God's country and I want to go back as soon as humanly possible.
The cell got no signal through the wilderness so it was up to me to entertain myself. I flipped through the stations and heard all sorts of bad songs ranging from Bryan Adams, Celine Dion, but finally I came across a good rock station which kept me satisfied as I soaked in the atmoshphere.
We pull into a diner sitting off the highway which had the stereotypical old people in trucker caps and work attire talking as if they're pontificating issues such as third world debt relief. I can't wait till I'm old and have a sense of importance.
Finally we make it to Reno in the mid-afternoon. I didn't get to spend much time there as we unloaded the truck as fast as we could and they had to take me to catch my flight.
I sat in a two prop plane and noticed the guy next to me smelled of moldy cheese. There were two guys sitting behind me wearing attire that advertised the college they went to over 23 years ago. The men were playing cards and were annoying the flight attendants by not leaving their tray tables upright when necessary. They argued up a storm with two of them about how putting the tray up would inconvenience them to no end and wouldn't budge. I hear the flight attendants repeat how it was federal regulations to put it up over and over again which was countered by juvenile responses about how that was stupid and they just want to play cards. After finally getting sick and tired of listening to grown men whine about how they must have a flat surface to play their game I decided I had enough.
"Look," I said turning around. "Put it up. Put it up now."
They just stared at me shocked. One of them finally smirked and gave me a nod with a 'yeah right' look. I reach down and knock the cards off the tray table. The deck spilled out onto the floor. They sit frozen.
"Sick of hearing you two whine like bitches. Leave the ladies alone for fuck's sake and do as your told. Stupid pansy ass."
They are motionless. I start to mimick them.
"Waaahhhh I wanna play cards. Waaaahhh I was breast fed until I was eight. Waaaaahhhh I'm entitled to be act like a jack ass in public. Waaahhhhh"
I get back to serious mode. I stare one of them down. They put the tray tables up.
I turn back around and start to read my book. A round of applause was given by everyone within earshot. The lady in front of me turned around and gave me a high five. The guys said nothing as they played a spontaneous round of 52 pick up. I assumed they would be wanting a conversation with me after we exited the plane, but they wouldn't even look at me as they made their way to bagagge claim. I probably looked mean as hell given I hadn't shaved in a few days and was pretty beat.
I'm normally not prone to outbursts like that, but those two really got on my nerves. I guess I'm not a nice guy when I think about it.
Yesterday I helped my coworker move. It wasn't a bad move as there were many there to help. Except for the hot weather it went reasonably well. I moved some heavy furniture, put together some beds for his girls, and had an interesting time with the company he keeps.
There was an older gentleman there named Paul. He was a chipper fellow that was coordinating the event. He enjoyed barking orders at us as we lifted items into his trailer. He had some sort of injury that prevented him from heavy lifting, which was convenient as hearing himself speak was his true gift. I learned a lot by speaking to this man who was an authority on everything. He did have an amazing ability to give his resume concerning his truck driving and his preaching across the country. Modeling himself after the Apostle of the same name, Paul made sure I understood what his ministry was like and I watched him speak with pride about taking other churches to task for various things such as doctrinal differences, dogma, and going into bars teaching the good book.
Then came the political discussion. Oh boy you think the only issues that mattered in this coming presidential election were abortion and gay marriage. I asked him and anyone within earshot if they thought God really cared about gay marriage. They responded as if I were an idiot. I told them that I think God only gave a damn about the act of homosexuality and cared nothing for some legal binding contract that is essentially a property arrangement. They quickly changed the subject to abortion and didn't want to respond to that.
Typical.
Still they were nice people and I enjoyed their company, politics be damned.
Today I woke early and helped my friend Andrew move. A very easy move it was as we had a lot of people to help and we didn't have to move any heavy furniture thankfully. We got done in a short amount of time and had a nice lunch outside in some Mexican restaurant.
I started my drive home alone with my thoughts, which can be a mixed bag. I watch my friends with their loved ones talk about things related to being a family. I was the only one who was single and at my age and it's starting to feel pathetic. I reflected on my life, past loves, and various other observations as to why I am who I am. It's hard being me sometimes and right now I'll put a thousand dollars on the fact that I'll die alone.
I have no one to blame but myself for the choices I have made.
Enough with the damn whining. I need a beer.
"Ethical religion can be real only to those who are engaged in ceaseless efforts at moral improvement. By moving upward we acquire faith in an upward movement, without limit." - Felix Adler
I learned a valuable lesson this weekend. Corey came over on Friday and stated he was sick, but not contagious. This was sadly not the case as he was coughing up a lung and later in the evening I started to as well.
Saturday was Andrea's yearly move to which I went over and helped, again. Her brother thought it was hilarious as the only time he sees me is once a year when I help haul furniture. The move was pretty easy though and went quickly.
I got home that afternoon and laid down. I started coughing again and my sinuses were killing me. I fell asleep rather quickly, but awoke early this morning feeling like hell. I'm at work right now eating chicken noodle soup and lots of orange juice. Oh and I forgot to spring forward. Today is not a good day.
"The President has once again failed us. Millions of Americans are at risk of going without the flu vaccine this year because the administration failed to act proactively to ensure an adequate supply. There is simply no excuse for this." - Jon Corzine
Friday was moving day for me. While this is not interesting in and of itself the company I kept was entertaining to say the least.
My new roommate Pablo threw out his back so he recruited some friends of his girlfriend to help out. I show up at his place to help move his stuff and I come across two young burly looking guys Mitch and Brennan. Both had a rural demeanor, but seemed like pleasant folk. We loaded the truck pretty quickly and as I stepped up onto the Uhaul to shut the door I hear a noise. The sound that almost echoed the neighborhood was my jeans ripping right up my crotch. Brennan looks at me and states that he heard a rip. I told him that it was indeed the case. Considering my pants were all packed up I couldn't change them. Sigh.
We drive the Uhaul to my place and quickly pack the truck till it's full and start to head out. I ride with Mitch and Brennan in the Uhaul as we make our way down Martin Luther King Jr Blvd. We start to drive by the memorial park dedicated to the civil rights leader.
"Look Mitch," Brennan says. "It's Martin Luther King Park."
"Hey," Mitch exclaims. "Is that where they shot the nigger? Hahahahaha"
I shoot him a look as we sit in silence.
"Oh," he says with a bit of embarrassment. "I'm sorry. We're from Buckley."
"Well," I said. "I'm from Longview."
"Same thing then," he said with a laugh.
"Not in this case," I said.
"Huh?"
"Never mind."
We travel down MLK to Rainier Ave. As we travel to Renton the boys were making all sorts of black jokes making fun of spinning rims, jeans that are worn around the mid thigh, and various other items associated with young black culture. We drove at a slow pace through the neighborhood. We pass all sorts of graffiti soaked buildings, bars in windows of various homes, cars that look and sound ridiculous. The boys kept making fun of everything they saw. I want to say something, but I don't. I just sit and keep quite as they tuned the radio station to modern country and bragged about their big diesel trucks. Sigh.
We arrive as the new place and get ready to unload the truck. Next to us is a cute girl in short pigtails. Dressed in tight jeans and even tighter shirt she was bent over under the hood of her car filling it with oil. Mitch makes comments about how he'd fuck that until he dies, then goes over to offer assistance. Him and Brennan help the girl up and chat her up a bit as they deduce the issue with her car. I keep hauling items up to the place as they both try and charm the girl.
As luck would have it her boyfriend shows up. He gets out of the car and introduces himself as I'm still unloading the truck with an exposed crotch. The girl calls a tow truck and her and her mate cuddle up against the car. Mitch makes comments to me about how she's been looking at him while touching her guy.
"Yeah," I say. "She's all about you."
"You know it," he says. "That guy doesn't know how close he is from losing his girl to me."
I could tell he wasn't kidding. Considering Mitch believes he's the funniest guy on the planet and laughs at all his jokes you know he's serious when he says something without chuckling.
Truth is this girl's boyfriend was really good looking. He's far more attractive then any of us, especially me with week old scruff, tattered tshirt, and jeans with a huge hole that shows off my boxers. Still one can always dream.
The boys did remind me of people I grew up with which is sad when you think about it. I probably should've lectured them about the benefits of not making racial jokes, but like my hometown friends they had to experience life outside their bubble to really have that hit home. I guess I can admire someone for speaking their mind no matter how disgusting their speech can be, but these guys just happen to be less educated than most and are really a product of their environment, just like the people they ridicule.
All this being said we couldn't have moved so quickly and efficiently without their help. I gave them some cash for helping us out as they did say they were unemployed. I'm grateful for their help if not their company.
"A man who won't die for something is not fit to live." - Martin Luther King, Jr.
In keeping with my nomadic existence I'm moving again. The owner of the townhouse I live in is moving and rather than get a bunch of roommates that I'm unfamiliar with and continue to pay an exorbitant amount of rent for a room that's the size of a closet I decided to pack up and move back to Renton.
Ahh yes Renton, the trashy suburb of Seattle. Giving that I'm moving away from Martin Luther King Blvd I'm sort of like exchanging one ghetto for another. Still there are things I'll miss about living in that area such as the self proclaimed Baddest Nigga in Seatown, aggressive pan handling, naked neighbors, and the knowledge that I could score just about any illicit product easily given the desire.
Goodbye to you old neighborhood. It's been interesting as well as surreal.
"The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy." - Martin Luther King Jr
People who know me personally understand that I'm not a fashion conscious guy. I'm more prone to purchase stuff that's practical rather than something that simply looks good. If the item does have purpose as well as being pleasing to the eye then great.
Since I'm moving to Seattle proper I decided I need new furniture for my closet sized bedroom. IKEA seemed to be the logical choice. The European furniture maker has made an empire selling tasty meatballs and practical furniture that conserve space while looking decent. Well the latter is no longer true.
The Pretty Girl and I walked into the superstore and I found the most gawdy colored couches and chairs. The 70s are back at IKEA and they feel that's a good thing. All of the hues on most of the items looks like they leapt straight out of an episode of 'All in the Family'. At first I wasn't annoyed by this considering my first item of purchase was a bookshelf, one I found fairly easily, but when it came to towels and shower curtains it became a different story.
I couldn't find a towel nor curtain that looked relatively decent. It was all so hideous I decided against purchasing any of it. This is coming from someone who could care less if a person's wearing jean shorts. Throughout the big box store there were signs of smiling IKEA furniture designers. Smile now folks, for a special place in hell awaits those who try and bring back last century's ugliest decade.
"Our idea is to serve everybody, including people with little money." - Ingvar Kamprad
Tis the season of people and their moves and for some reason I always get asked to help. I don't even own a truck anymore, but people still rely on me to move heavy furniture. I'd like to think it's because of the Adonis strength I posses, but that's not the case. I'm a nice guy really and a sucker for free food.
RO is moving out from Redmond into Everett and all we have to move the stuff is his small truck and my tiny car. This should be a hoot.
Last week I helped RO's mom move from Redmond to Bainbridge Island. God that was miserable. We rented a 26 foot Uhaul which at the time seemed like overkill considering she lived in a two bedroom apartment. "We could never fill that Uhaul", RO stated. Damn him for being wrong. We stuffed that oversized slow vehicle to the rim with all sorts of crap ranging from three love seats, a couch, bbq, a karaoke machine, two queen sized beds, etc. I sweated like a stark pig and stunk up the place.
RO's brother in-law is a lazy man. He did no heavy lifting and sat on the phone most of the day.
RO's mom felt so bad that I did so much work she paid me very well. I still feel bad for taking the cash, but not too bad. Oh and she bought me McDonald's. Don't like McDonald's, but hey it was free.
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.
Yesterday I helped my coworker move. It wasn't a bad move as there were many there to help. Except for the hot weather it went reasonably well. I moved some heavy furniture, put together some beds for his girls, and had an interesting time with the company he keeps.
