Most of you have already heard all of this but this time you get to hear it with pictures! And this is the last time I’ll talk about it. At such length.
As you know, James and I have relocated to Memphis. I like moving. It’s fun and new and exciting. When I lived in Cincinnati, I moved to a new apartment every couple of years or so.
This move was nothing like those moves. It involved movers.
Since James is being transferred, his employer would pay for movers. James was interested in this. I was not.
I don't like the idea of someone else touching all of my things. I like packing the boxes. I like knowing where I packed things. If movers came in and packed, the boxes would be a big garbled mess. When I pack, all the yarn goes in one box. All the shoes go in one box. Etcetera.
Why not pack the boxes ourselves (myself) and have to movers pick up the boxes? Because the movers stipulated that if they didn't pack the boxes, they would not be responsible for any damage. That's a big "we don't have to care" option. I have heard people talk about their experiences with movers. I have heard movers talk about their experiences moving. It's not their stuff! They don't care! And if they can exercise the we-don't-have-to-care option, it will be a disaster.
So, we compromised. We'd move the boxes and the moving company would move the furniture. James wasn't happy and I wasn't happy. It was a successful compromise.
About two days before the move I was starting to regret my decision. I had to pack my things and James's things. The apartment was so small that I didn't have anywhere to put the packed boxes, let alone the empty boxes. And James wasn't terribly helpful.
Two days after the move I no longer regretted my decision. Our furniture wasn't going to arrive for a week. That would have been a week with a completely empty house. Nothing. We would have been in a hotel for a week. The week that we both took off work to get settled into our house.
So we camped out for a week. We had a twin mattress on the floor, a card table in the kitchen, and two camping chairs. We unpacked the kitchen, the bathrooms, the closets, and the laundry room. It was fun. It was good.
A week later our furniture arrived. Oh the excitement! It was like Christmas! Finally our house would be complete!
Then the furniture started coming off the truck, one mangled piece after the next. Coming out of the truck that said "The Careful Movers" on the side.
Before the movers arrived James and I had discussed whether or not we were supposed to tip the movers. I tend to think that we are expected to tip anyone and everyone. James thinks no one should ever be tipped. We went with James on this one.
How did this happen, you may ask. For starters, we had a small load. The movers don’t like small loads because they don’t make much money on them. So we’d pissed them off right there. Then our furniture got loaded and unloaded three different times. Loaded up in Gibson City. Unloaded and stored in a warehouse. Loaded onto another truck and driven around the country for a few days. I think all the loading and unloading along with a little bit of f*** you attitude helped to make this a less than stellar move.
So, if you are ever tempted to use movers, insist that your belongings be delivered in the same truck they were packed in. The truck that you watched them pack. Movers are shady characters. Not to be trusted.