July 24, 2005
Love Shack
The Redhead and I have commenced The Great Cohabitation Adventure. So last weekend we moved. Hence the absence. My computer was either in a box, out of a box but not plugged in, or out of a box and plugged in but without internet access. And I don't like conducting my digital life from unfamiliar computers. It just feels dirty.
In the process of moving I discovered that there is probably nothing that makes me angrier than carrying large, heavy, cumbersome objects in and out of trucks.
I should have had an inkling about this one. When me and the Redhead had to move a barbecue up two flights of stairs (for the afternoon. Get that? It was only FOR THE AFTERNOON), I swear to god, she was deliberately and maliciously manipulating that thing to make it impossibly painful for me to continue, yet in her evil genius she had cunningly constructed a mechanical arrangement that made it impossible for me to stop - any weakness on my part and I would be pinned to a wall by a barbecue and slowly crushed to death. It ended with me furious, sweating and covered with all that grease-saturated sand shit they have in the bottom of them, and it very nearly sounded the death-knell of the relationship. And I tell you, if she had've pulled the pin half way up the second flight, I would have happily walked away.
But I forgot that, and manfully declared myself willing to lug crap for TWO DAYS from house to new house. Couches, tables, benches, boxes, desks, barbecues (will I never learn?) shelves, stereos, pots (cooking and gardening), a television, four stereos (FOUR!) and a European washer-dryer. When the Redhead dropped something, it was her fault for being a girl and thus incapable of tough labour in the hunter-gatherer sense. When I dropped something, it was the Redhead's fault for pushing/pulling too hard/softly.
Next time I'm paying some burly, wife-beatered men to do it. Fuck my masculinity. The burly men can have it. I'll wrap kitchen goods in paper and neatly pack them in a box.
Filed under Peter
Comments
Charles and I almost have a bust up EVERYTIME we have to move a heavy object. We achieve this by either a) almost dropping it or one of us sustaining an injury b) damaging the object or surrounding walls/objects or c) if we get through it without an argument Charles will inevitably comment on the fact that we didn't have an argument, which irritates me so much that we have an argument.
When's the housewarming BBQ and am I invited?
Posted by: fluffy at July 25, 2005 01:40 PM
BBQ's on its way. Or will it be a chicken and champagne breakfast? Or a cocktail party? Or a spit-roast and 10 slabs of VB affair?
Whatever it is, fluffy, you'll be the very first to know.
Posted by: Peter at July 26, 2005 03:56 PM
Ha ha ha, funny shit Pedro. I had my first experience of professional movers a few months ago and I highly recommend Gerardo and his bevy of burly Mexicans for carrying all those heavy boxes and one non-Euro washing machine down and then up four flights of stairs (random coincidence of moving from one fourth floor to another). I'll send you his number, you even get to ride up front with Gerardo in the truck (admittedly with the gearstick in between your legs), what else can you ask for?
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