Monday, July 10, 2006

Move (pt.1)

Homeless people are smart. Smarter than me, at least. Ask a homeless person how he/she feels about scrubbing the hardened black deposits off the bottom of a greasy oven at midnight in order to get the maximum deposit back from their landlord. Or ask them about carrying carloads of boxes and cleaning supplies back and forth across town like mules for three full days. You'll likely get some incoherent mutter, or at best, they'll ask you for a dollar. Okay, some of the more ambitious homeless people do carry a lot on their shopping carts, so I guess they might know a thing or two about that. But sometimes I think hobos know the secret to life.

Have not, toil not.

For those not in the know about my personal life, which is approximately 99.999997318% of the world's population, Katrina and I have just purchased a home. It's a simple two-bedroom house built in the early 1920s with a detached two-car garage, and an apartment above the garage. We're actually quite happy with it. It's in an interesting part of town called "The Heights." Houston Heights is an old town that used to be its own municipality until it was annexed by Houston proper, and is now considered to be Houston's historical district with plenty of old-timey homes and businesses. There are also plenty of good Mexican restaurants nearby which is another big plus for us.

One thing I noticed after we moved is how ridiculously small most of our furniture looks. Not that I enjoy big, gaudy furnishings, but it's clear we definitely have a house full of apartment furniture.

The moving bill initially only came out to $187.00, but with some extra boxes that Katrina hadn't figured in during her call to the movers about a week prior (minus the few boxes I'd rather the movers not man-handle which I moved personally), the grand total would still have been in the low $200s. I say "would have" because we only paid $160.00. Due to a mix-up at the mover's office, the crew that showed up came about four and a half hours late. The two kids who finally showed up, who looked no older than about eighteen, had already asked if we could pay the additional box charges in cash. We knew they'd just pocket the cash, so I said "let's just wait till we're all done and then we can figure it out." Near the end of the move, he again asked about the cash, only this time he asked if it could all be paid in cash and he'd forget about the extra charges and it'd only be $160.00 flat. Only catch is that I'd have to call their boss and lie by saying that we had waited long enough and I arranged for other movers. That way, they wouldn't need to show any paperwork at all, and they pocket ALL the cash. At a moral crossroads, I had to ask myself what Jesus would do. Then, I think we figured if we said "no," they'd get upset and show us no leniency on the bill whatsoever, and probably take the kid gloves off for the remainder of the move. So I made the clumsy sounding call to the movers, and Katrina headed off to the ATM machine.

It was their job on the line, anyway.

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