So let's speed ourselves through the hell known as THE MOVE...I don't want to talk about it much as it has probably left indelible scars that not even the warblings of Celine Dion can take away...
We (meaning me and Wrestler Guy...remember him....super hot stud with a great ass that I no longer have the hots for and count as one of my dearest friends) went to go pick up the U-Haul. As Wrestler Guy was driving he had to be with me to pick up the U-Haul and he warned me there would be a line. He was right. There was a 2 hour line to just PICK UP the damn thing.
We finally make our way to the front of the line and the woman behind the counter says she can't find my reservation number in the system which I tell her is total BS since I called the station earlier that day myself (showing her the information I had printed out) and they had agreed that I did indeed have a truck waiting for me. Wrestler Guy was forced to leave his work ID behind for the truck because he was the one that was driving it and that at nearly 8PM it wasn't going to be possible for him to have his work information validated. The woman then made some snide comment about reserving a time to pick up the truck to which I said I had and the time I reserved was almost two hours ago when I arrived.
After more arguing (they were out of utility dollies so I had to get the more expensive appliance dolly to use and I wasn't going to pay the higher charge because they didn't have the equipment handy that I reserved to which they said it was first come, first serve to which I said, fuck that, I'm paying the lower amount because it's not my fault they didn't have enough on hand)...FINALLY we got to the apartment and started loading in the truck. It took a little under two hours and we had to get a little creative with some of the packing to make room for everything (despite the fact that not everything ultimately wound up in the apartment) but we got it all in and we left the U-Haul locked and in a garage. I couldn't get into the apartment until the following afternoon so it was the safest place for it to be.
I called U-Haul the next morning to let them know that I was having problems getting into the building (yes it was a lie but they didn't need to know that) since the landlord hadn't arrived with the keys to let me in and therefore it was going to be returned a little late. The woman I spoke to was all up in arms about the fact that the truck wasn't back in time and how other people were going to be inconvenienced and that if it didn't come back by that evening they were going to put out a stolen vehicle alert for it.
At this point I was pretty much a wreck since I was stressing about getting out of work, picking my friend up to move stuff into the apartment, and getting the truck back on time and was pretty close to a breakdown of big boo hoo tears. I told the woman I thought I was doing the right thing by calling her to let them know it was taking longer than I thought and it would be back as soon as possible but she didn't want to hear that. She went on and on about the stolen vehicle report and how I would be arrested to the point where I just blurted out that I didn't care what she put on my file that I would get it back as soon as possible and that nothing could really be done about it.
She hung up on me.
I called back, called her a cunt, and hung up. Thank God they thought my name was Jason.
Finally, I left work and picked up my friend Gio and we headed off on the really long trip crosstown to get to the Midtown Tunnel. We didn't realize we were in the "Cars Only" lane and was going to have to redirect ourselves around to the next turn which we also missed because we didn't realize we could turn where they sent us. So off on another long trip around the block and we finally made it through the tunnel and on our way. It took an hour and half to leave Manhattan. It took ten minutes to get to the apartment in Brooklyn. How's that for traffic?
We got to the apartment and the husband of the couple I am moving in with (not in that kinky three way type either) was there and he knocked on the door to my new bedroom to see if the chick who lived there was still in.
"Hello?"
WHAT??? She was still there??? It was past 5:00 and she was supposed to be out by then!!! Why was she still there??? (Answer to that in a moment)
She did, however, let us start moving stuff in and the room started to get filled VERY quickly so she opted to start moving stuff out to make room for us. Turns out that her friends were going to help her move and they hadn't arrived yet with the company van which is why she was delayed. She did have high remarks for the neighborhood and the people I was moving in with which was good to know. Ultimately as we were done moving stuff, her friends were just a few minutes out so she got the privelege of our parking spot while I sped back to Manhattan to return the truck.
Now mind you, at this point it's just after 6:00 and I have plenty of time to get the truck back. I was just so tired I said "fuck it" to refilling it with gas and just wanted to be done with it. So what if I paid a $20 fee...I didn't want to see that truck ever again. So I pulled in to the station and there was no one there to accept the truck so I just walked in and stood in line. Ten minutes later a female employee (who was leaving....please note...leaving) said that everyone holding keys had to go back outside and check their trucks in first so it was back outside to do just that and get the slip that basically said that they had the truck and my nightmare was over.
Or was it.
They had only two people working the counters -- one person checking trucks in and one person checking them out. As I got in line, the woman checking trucks back in called for the next person in line. Forty five minutes later she was still with that person. One of the women behind me (and yes, I'll say it...she was of the "pushy Jewish" variety) got fed up waiting and went outside to get someone to get a manager. Her thought being that she was paying by credit card, they had the truck, they had the equipment, they had everything, why should she wait when they were just going to charge her card anyway?
I liked this woman.
She got a manager (or someone at least posing as a manager) to come out and accept her paperwork which he stapled and laid on a pile of other work and then he left. Left as in "Adios I am gone for the day" kind of left. We were pissed. We wanted to do it too. We just wanted to drop off our paperwork and leave.
The revolt was in motion.
I went with this other woman to the back office where Pushy Jewish Woman (and trust me I thank her for being that as I would have been there for another two hours) had gone and we pretty much complained our heads off that there was no need for us to stand in line if they were going to charge us on our cards and they had hte truck. This went on for a while longer and we were joined by the six other people in line who were insistent that we weren't going to stand for slow service when we could just drop off our paperwork and go.
But what really got me was that the woman who was taking our paperwork was in a big huff that we were actually making her do work (or at least so it seemed). I mean...forty five minutes with ONE customer is a bit much, no? They made some feeble excuse about it being the first of the month and the evening which was always a busy time to which someone shouted out that if they knew that then they should have more people on staff to accomodate for that.
Ultimately, we all got our paperwork handed in and I got Wrestler Guy's ID card back and off we went. I did stop one woman who as returning a truck and told her to hurry to where the guy in line behind me was standing and just turn in her paperwork or she would be in line forever.
I was smelly. I was dirty. I was tired. But the best part of the day came when an old fuck buddy called me to say he was in town and wanted to meet up.
That was some of the best sex I've had in a while. Maybe it was because I was just so tired and needed a little rest. Maybe it was because I just needed to do something that wasn't move related. Maybe it was just because I was horny (which I really wasn't but it didn't take long after his call).
Either way I'm moved in...I'm about 90% unpacked and all I need is the cable and internet connections to make it truly home. Yeah it's smaller than where I was before and I don't get to walk to work anymore but it's cheaper (about $500 a month cheaper) and it's finally a place to call my own...really my own...after the fire. No more sublets. No more smoke. Just a nice feeling of settlement that I haven't had in a while.
Sigh....it's a good thing.
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