You Pack it We Trash it.

 

Note: Most of my moves have been fantastic and the moving men very professional. I ‘m always amazed how they can carry so much on their back as empty the house. I admire these hard-working men. However, I had one packing up experience . . .

 

I didn’t see it coming. It seemed an easy move as moves go. We had decided to move closer to Grand Rapids, Michigan  from a small town by Lake Michigan  The new town was  just a few miles down the Interstate. Because of the short trip, we decided to pack it up ourselves and move things in small spurts. We’d call a local moving company to move the heavy items like furniture, television sets and refrigerator.

 

 

When the three stooges showed up to my house, I swallowed and tried to pushed away my fears. Don’t judge anyone by a dirty sweatshirt, or inability to find the house right away , I thought as I gave a quick house tour of what needed to be done before returning back to the dining room to pack the china. Give them a chance.

 

A few hours later I heard an argument break out on our outside front steps.  I peeked through the curtains. With some choice words I saw the newbie employee fired on the spot. Good choice, I thought. He had already explained to me how he was a retired school employee and had announced to me that this was his first day. Lucky me. He didn’t have a clue how to lift furniture carefully and a lot of walls got scraped on the way out the door.

 

Now we were down to two.  One more firing and I’d be heisting one end of a king-sized bed.  I had always had three or more show up but it seemed resources were skimpy that day.

 

“Sure you need this refrigerator moved?” a skinny man with a bad haircut quizzed me. “We’ll have to drag it up the stairs from the basement.  “That’s what I’m paying you for”, I thought and  smiled, assuring them there’d be a tip in their future for the difficult stuff.

 

I got up from my dining room table covered in newspapers and china cups, and walked over to peer down the basement stairs. Two men grunted and groaned as they hoisted the electronic monster up the steps. Half way up one man shouted, “Look out!”

 

To my horror, my beloved frig with the extra freezing space, side by side doors, and icemaker, slid all the way back down the stairs. Thud, thud, thud.  It landed at an awkward angle at the bottom before putting a ding in the wall.  Ding?  Actually you could call it a small cavern, possible a potential display area large enough to display my four kids’ school photos. My stomach turned. The two men looked at each other and shrugged.  One of them smiled. “It’ll be fine, Lady. We’ll fix it.” I learned a major truth that day; never trust the phrase, “We’ll fix it.”

 

It only took a day to get my refrig plugged into the new kitchen to realize it had died a brutal death. “That was the worst move we ever had,” I told my husband. “My furniture is scratched, we are missing parts to the bed and now my deluxe refrigerator has been murdered. I think the junior high wrestling team could have done a better job.”  I continued to spout, listing the damage they’d done until he put up his hand for me to stop.

 

The next day my husband took time off on his lunch hour and pulled up in front of  U Pack It’s office. As he stepped out of his car he glanced up to see a blurred figure fly out the back door of the building. Diving into his car, he gunned the motor for a fast get-away.  When my husband asked the receptionist to speak to the office manager, he found the manager had “Just left for the day.”

 

Maybe he was packing for a corporate transfer. Just hope he finds a good moving company.

 

 

Do you have a funny moving story? What was your worst move. I’d love to hear from you in the comment section.

 

 

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Friends, I love to share good news. My book, Changing Zip Codes was selected to soon be on Millitary Ministry’s Third Party Resources page for a few months. I’m very encourage to help military families. Remember when you purchase a book you are also giving money to Family Life. They give scholarships to military couples for their marriage retreats, “A Weekend to Remember”.

 

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