01/31/2003 - 12:44 PM

The bench that went with the dining room set showed up in a box (figures...too cheap to pay $25 for assembly), and then it was time for the desk. It measured in at 60" long, and approx 36" tall and wide, so, although awkward, was definitely doable with the staircase. The movers grunted and groaned up the two flights of stairs (I just happened to be listening at the top *EG*), and got it into the house in one piece. After maneuvering past the dresser that the same two guys had delivered on Saturday, they had it up on its side to remove the two planks from the bottom that kept the legs from bowing out.

Now, a physics lesson. When something bad happens, time moves one of two ways:

SLOW - like you've got the VCR on step, and it's going one frame at a time. A second easily feels like a minute.

FAST - where the event occurs so quickly, you barely even register that something occured visually, although your brain still knows that something very bad has occured.

The second plank came off of the desk very FAST. Fast enough that the mover removing it couldn't stop it from riccocheting off the brand-new dresser sitting next to it and putting two noticeable gouges into the cherry exterior.

*UGH*

The driver was pissed...mainly at himself, although I'm sure he was thinking "if only that damn dresser hadn't been there, we'd be on our way to Mickey D's for lunch!" He muttered something about calling the salesman and getting a discount, and stormed out in disgust. The other mover dealt with the paperwork, and had me sign off. I only did this on the condition that he documented what had just occured. Once again, he went on his way without a tip.

I didn't tip on Saturday because they took off so quickly, plus I was a bit thrown off by not receiving the armoire that I was jonesing for. They didn't get a tip this time because of the desk/dresser incident. That would have been like rewarding a puppy for peeing on the floor, even though he hadn't done it in a month. Let's just say I was not a happy camper.

So I need to give Scot (yes, the one with one 't') a call tomorrow to see how much this is worth to them to continue to receive my business. Poor kid...he's really a nice guy, but he's had his hands full dealing with me and all of this drama. If he were about 5-10 years older, I'd invite him out for a drink to laugh about all of this, but he's not, so I won't. Oh well...

Working the p/t job tonight and ALL day on Sunday (10:30-10:30). I need the money, so I'm not complaining. Two of the three shifts should be very profitable, which could not have come at a better time. I need to beg for more hours, but knowing my luck, I won't get them. The end of the month is PACKED with shifts, but that pay is at least six weeks away, and I have to pay up in the neighborhood of $500 to get the tags for Grey (my new Jetta). The actual car payments kick in on the 15th, so I need to prepare for that, as well. Someone just shoot me now...

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