Okay. The movers are scheduled to be here in 20 minutes. Where in the HELL is the woman who is going to pick up the arm chairs?
I hear my phone so I reach for it.
Text from Town and Country: Good luck on move in day! Tell me how it goes.
Text from Desi Girl: Thanks! I shall! You should come see it once I am moved in!
Text from Town and Country: Will do.
The buzzer startles me and I drop the phone. Before asking who is there, I hit the entry buzzer and then peer through the peephole. I really should have asked who was there. I mean, sure, living across the hall from the front door allows me to see who is entering, and I can always refrain from opening the door. This is actually a very bad habit I never shook in the three years I lived here. I buzz too freely.
I open the door to the movers, of which there are four. One mover begins numbering my items and boxes. As soon as the items are numbered, two of the movers begin moving the items, while the fourth mover surveys the contents to be moved against his roster. I have more boxes than I originally stated (closer to 50 than 23, sidebar: who the EFF bought all this crap?!). My undoing is paperwork and books.Working from home requires A LOT of stuff. Computers. A printer the size of a robot. More stationary supplies than found at Staples.
On the upside, I won’t be moving the air conditioner, the piano bench, dining table or wine rack. So perhaps less furniture + more boxes = moving math.
“Okay, so these stuffed chairs are not on the list,” he says. “Ah yea, someone is coming to pick them up,” I reply. He nods, seems satisfied with my response and helps the other movers move my stuff. I have to say, they are a finely tuned unit. Moving in a synchronized, well-oiled unit that is able to take the bed apart and wrap it in 10 minutes. It takes me 10 minutes to put the fitted sheet on the bed!
I hear the front door buzzer and for some reason, this time I peek out the peephole before buzzing the nurse who is buying the arm chairs into the apartment. “Hey there,” nurse says and shakes my hand. She’s an attractive woman with dark skin, wavy hair and deep rich brown eyes. “Thanks for working with me on the price,” she says and hands me $160. “I don’t have a $10,” I reply. “It’s fine,” she says. “Do you think your movers will help me?” she asks. “Sure,” the head mover says, and then says a few words in Spanish and just like that my chairs are loaded into her U-Haul pick-up.
“How is your friend unloading those chairs?” head mover asks. I shrug.
He nods, and within an hour, he and his crew have taken all my things and loaded them into the truck. The four of them pile into the truck and away goes everything I own.
(NOTE FROM DESI GIRL: I am two posts behind. I am hoping to post three posts tomorrow and catch up! Sorry --- life has been life this week!!!! xo DG)