So I helped the goth chick coworker and her fiance move from one apartment to another this past weekend. Typical, hot humid August day, and I sweated downpours. Why do I keep volunteering for these? Anyway, we got all their big stuff like furniture and big boxes relocated.
When I first got there, the apartment was a junkyard. They hadn’t packed all their small shit, of which there was copious amounts. So, to get their big shit, we threw all their small shit into boxes and set them aside. A girl named Nancy packed all their kitchen items.
So this morning I went up to goth chick coworker and asked if they managed to get everything finished. She started griping that she couldn’t find her cell phone charger. She said it was in the kitchen and that Nancy must have lost it when she was packing. Then GCCW got all martyred on the cross about it, saying “I’m broke. I can’t afford a new cell phone charger. I had to use the car battery to charge it. She also didn’t pack our glasses and goblets right. She just threw them in the boxes. That’s why I left all that wadded-up newspaper laying around, so she could use it to pack the fragile stuff. Next time I move, I’m not inviting her. If she can’t take care of my important stuff, I don’t want her along.”
Jesus Christ woman, if you had packed all your important stuff in the first place instead of just leaving it laying around for us to do something with, you wouldn’t have had this problem! If you’re so concerned about your fragile kitchen items, why didn’t you pack them yourself with tender grace and loving care? We all did this for pizza and beer, which I didn’t even stick around for myself, so we saved you a fortune in moving costs, and you’re going to bitch because you can’t find a fucking CELL PHONE CHARGER??? I hope you fall backwards on your goddamned candelabra and it gets lodged in your plumbing.
I am always called on to help friends move, and I’ve become quite adept at it. Pizza and beer seems to be my common method of payment too. But there’s nothing I hate more than whiny, nitpicky ingrates who can’t appreciate all the help they get from friends and all the money we have saved them.
“Many people prepack what’s important to them when having friends and acquaintances move them for free. Don’t make me rip your limbs off and beat you to death with them,” would have been an appropriate reply.
This is why I’ve developed “Eli’s Rules of Moving”: a list of things that I will and won’t do during a move. These rules are:
I don’t pack. If it’s not packed, I’m not moving it.
I don’t use U-Haul. If you do, call me when/if you get a truck, and I’ll show. I’ve waited too many hours for a truck to arrive.
There will be a dolly & wheeled furniture movers available. (Since I own these, I usually just bring my own set)
I don’t carry heavy things up more than one flight or down more than 2 flights (bad knees).
I don’t clean.
There better be Guinness or some other dark & chewy beverage at the end of the move.
I give these rules to anyone who asks me to move them. I warn them that I will leave if these rules are violated, especially 1 & 3.
And I have left. It’s a waste of time to have moving people standing around waiting for someone to finish packing.
However, if you are packed, I’ll work my butt off to get it moved. We finished emptying a 2 bedroom apartment into a moving truck in under 45 minutes last year. An additional 30 minutes was needed to move it into the new apartment.
We helped my husband’s friend move, and his wife actually had the nerve to say “no drinking beer while you’re moving us.”
Well, we gave her the ol’ TOUGH SHIT, SISTER and continued on with what we were doing, beer and all. None of her stuff was packed. In fact, her basement was a sea of toys, knee deep.
Wow, goth chick co-worker needs a good dose of reality upside the head. I’m with Eli - I will help people move, and I will even help pack (it beats hefting heavy stuff, and I’m really good at it), but you dare complain about how I packed it, you won’t like the response much.
NoClueBoy’s response was perfect - when friends help you move, you get what you pay for. Not having stuff ready to go is just ignorant - it wastes everybody’s time.
Okay, wait a second - Nancy screwed up, so she won’t be called for the next move? Su-weet. Way to go, Nancy.
Well, next time she can pay some moving company $150 an hour to do that for her. Actually, the packing would probably be cheaper, like around $80-100 an hour, so at least she’s got that going for her.
I’m always up for helping people move. It’s one of those tasks that i hate, and yet at the same time get a certain amount of satisfaction from. And i’ll move things up stairs and down stairs. I’ll move heavy thing and light things. It’s all no problem.
But if one thing annoys the fuck out of me, it’s people who ask you to help them move, but who aren’t actually ready to go when you arrive. I will help people move, but i’m not there to help them pack shit into boxes at the last minute. The boxes and furniture should be sitting there ready to go when i arrive.
Also, just because it’s your stuff doesn’t mean you get to stand there like a traffic cop and direct me all over the place, while doing no actual work yourself. Unless you have some physical ailment that prevents you from lifting stuff, you should be working as hard as any of us. This applies to men and women.
I moved a couple of months ago and managed to scrounge up seven people to help. One of them mentioned how nice it was that I had already packed everything when they arrived. My reaction was along the lines of “WTF?”. Not having everything ready when friends arrive to do heavy, boring work for free wasn’t in my universe prior to that conversation. Who would even conceive of such a thing?
I’ll help friends move if they ask, but from now on, they get Eli’s Rules.
I’m moving a 4 bedroom tri-level in 16 days, and I am sick and fucking tired of moving my own crap, so I hired people.
Hence, I am packing everything, becaise I don’t want to be pitted by some mover in 17 days (Can you believe this sorry fuck wanted us to pack his shit?)
I’ve been involved in those kinds of moves, so I know better anyway.
I forgot to mention another disaster that happened on move day. The handle broke off on her Toyota.
Now understandably, that sucks, but it’s not the end of the world. She’s complaining in her LJ that she won’t be able to drive the car because she can’t afford the repair costs, and her fiance is starting school Wednesday and won’t be able to drop her off at work. So far, everybody’s response has been, “Doesn’t your car have three other doors?”
As to whether she’s hot, she’s geek chick hot with black horn rim glasses, Betty Page hair, and of course black dresses. She’s got Kiss Demon-style boots that she wears when she goes clubbing. But good grief, I wish she’d quit being such a crisis queen.
I have assisted on many, many moves, but most of them went pretty smoothly. The one major exception involved a coworker and her brain dead friend. I showed up at her old place with my little hoopty truck, and she and the friend were moving things out into the driveway. So far so good. There was a bed, a desk, and some boxes, so we figured I’d take the big items and we’d stuff the rest of the things whereever they’d fit. We tried to put the desk in my truck, but with the camper shell it wouldn’t fit inside, so I was trying to decide if I could safely secure it on top. Eventually a dim bulb flickered on over the friend’s head, and he suggested we put the desk in his car. We looked down the street, and he pointed out his big ass SUV that could probably roll right over my truck. Coworker mildly chewed him out and he mumbled an apology. I didn’t say much because I didn’t know the guy, but I was ready to rip his damn head off. In the end, he took the desk and I took most of the rest of the stuff, and then he got lost going to the new place even though we were all in a convoy.
