Three Men and a Truck
I'm not good at following directions. When I shampoo my hair, I do not Repeat as the bottle suggests. I simply Lather and Rinse. I open boxes on the side that reads Open Other End. When I take a pizza out of the oven, I do not let it stand a few minutes before cutting. While filling my gas tank, I re-enter my car to make phone calls.
At the Post Office, I picked up a helpful mover's guide. The guide included a checklist of things to do leading up to the move date. The first item suggested was forwarding mail service. The people who created this guide knew what they were doing. I forwarded my mail. From then on, I did everything the guide suggested. I transferred phone, internet, and electricity with care to overlap by just a few days in the event that something didn't go according to my plan. I made extra copies of my new keys. I scheduled a reasonable late-morning move to avoid any mishaps in the chaos of the morning traffic. I packed the corkscrew, but I purchased beer with twist off caps to amend the situation. Being prepared felt good. On moving day, I sat on the couch and checked off the last box on the list.
The movers (Craig, Robert, and Sincere, sincerely) arrived and remarked at how easy this move was going to be and that they loved customers like me; customers who are prepared. They did not mention that they loved my boxes of shoes, but I was feeling so high preparedness that I would not let one omission reflect in the tip.
After wrapping everything in shrink wrap and blankets, the living room furniture was hauled to the truck and I complemented myself on the absence of hairballs and dead bugs and wine corks and panties under the couch. I decided that I really should give myself more credit for my cleanliness, even if I was wearing the clothes that I fell asleep in the night before.
Craig and his crew took a smoke break ($1.78 per minute x 4.5 minutes smoking = $8.01). Robert stopped to pet my cat and I (ever prepared) got the treats to coax Hissy to remove his claws from Robert's calf ($1.78 per minute x 6 minutes of coaxing = $10.68).
It wasn't until Sincere produced a mattress cover that I realized that my checklist did not include a box for Remove Vibrator and (Complimentary With Purchase) Bottle of Lubricant From Between Mattress and Box Spring.
I looked at Hissy and with my mind I said, "Draw blood. Do not let up until I have cleared the area. If one of them makes a move for that mattress, show no mercy." Hissy sat and examined his paw. I was going to have to stop Sincere myself. I lunged between Sincere and my bed, blocking his attempt to lift the mattress. I tried to form the words "inhaler" or "nitroglycerin" or something that would justify my sense of urgency, as though under the bed is a perfectly normal place to keep life saving medications. Robert turned to me and said, "Darlin' we do this every day. We know most people got shotguns under there." I decided that any reference that I could make about concealing my weapon would be lost on Robert and so I kept it to myself. I swept under the mattress and tucked the paraphernalia into my overalls (I have never been happier to wear loose fitting clothing).
As he slipped the mattress into a cover, Sincere lowered his voice and asked for my phone number. I understand why his mother named him Sincere. Clearly, she could not have named him Observant. My number is recorded on the 27 forms that I had to initial and sign before the movers could begin ($1.87 per minute x 30 seconds of skimming the fine print = $0.94).
Some of you made offers of alcohol; it is time to ante up. Many of you had doctor's appointments, sick grandmothers, 8-hour flu bugs, and natural disasters; there is till time to send me a housewarming gift. To those of you who offered to help me move, I'd like to thank you, but I don't trust you. No one likes to move, I can only assume that you were trying to gain access to my shoe vault. I am on to you.