What I Am Not Going To Do Again, Part Two

Have I mentioned that Randy and I have moved?

Have I mentioned that I am never going to move again?

Our movers, Brian and Jeremy, seemed to be on the ball when we left them on Saturday morning to drive to our new home in Mountain Home, Arkansas.  Remember “Arkansas”.  I had packed my car with the dog and as much else as I could hold.  Randy was towing the boat.  It was one of the longest days of my life.  I thought it would never end.

And then Sunday, the other longest day of my life arrived.

Randy and I were just a wee bit nervous on Sunday when Randy kept getting repeated calls from Jeremy.  They had apparently never heard of GPS or a paper map, and never bothered to look at the city on the paperwork ‘cause it seems that they were heading to Mountain Home, Idaho.  Randy got them going the other direction and later in the day, stopped them from taking the turn-off to Memphis.

Even I know that Memphis is in Tennessee, not Arkansas.

I won the bet that they wouldn’t get to the house to unload until 7pm.  Our greatest fear was the the 52’ trailer they had brought wouldn’t make the last turn into our driveway.  

That was the least of our problems.

‘Sid’ wasn’t with them.  Remember ‘Sid’?  He was the mover that lived in an alternate universe where nothing broke, no matter how hard you threw it.  He probably had another job destroying another family’s belongings.  They had a new group member, Howard.  That was his real name, so I don’t have to put it in quotes.

Randy and I attempted to help unload to speed up the process, but there is only so much we could do.  I made sure they had ice water and soda.  Brian was starting to act a bit too friendly and I took to hiding whenever he came by.

‘Sid’s’ handy-work came out very close to the end.  He had thrown, and I mean thrown, a box together that contained a small container of cooking oil.  The plastic container didn’t survive the 50 pounds of canned goods on top of it.  Brian put the oil soaked carton on the bottom of a stack of three boxes on the hand truck and then did a double back flip off the ramp of the trailer.

Even though it was dark, I would have thought that he would have noticed the box had a slightly oily feel to it because it was, well, soaked in oil.

I didn’t see the fall.  Nor did Jeremy or Randy.  Howard was asleep as he was the designated driver for the trip home.  But it was, at least to Brian, a life-threatening injury.  Bad enough to not be able to help unload the rest of our things.  But not bad enough to hop around to find his cigarettes and lighter.  I should have stepped on them when I had the chance.

Now, I am sure that Brian is a very nice person.  And I realize that they have worked very hard and long days in sweltering heat and probably didn’t have that pleasant of a trip to Mountain Home (Arkansas).  But the way he acted gives all men a bad name.  He even gives children a bad name.

I do have to say that it was very convenient of Brian to ‘hurt’ his ankle right before the last items - the heaviest - to come off the trailer.  But between Jeremy, Randy and myself, we got it done.

They left at 1am.

I then wished that I would have taken Randy seriously when he suggested early on to just get rid of everything and come to Mountain Home (Arkansas) naked.

The next time we move, and there wont be a next time, I will be taking Randy seriously.

Have the BEST day ever!
~ Dorothy