I decided to take Thursday off instead of Friday as my move day. Stephen (boyfriend and now housemate) had to go into work earlier on Friday and I needed his help. I tried to get a hold of my father to borrow his truck, but had no luck. We then went to plan B, Shipper's truck (Schipper being a friend of Stephen's). Schipper's truck was at his sister's house and sis had left with the keys.
Well, Stephen needed a vehicle anyway. He had been living very metro-euro and walking everywhere because he lives a stone's throw from work. He got rid of two trucks just as he and I started dating. Since we are moving, he needs a vehicle. Well, we just picked up a bargain mart and shopped for trucks.
1977 Chevy Utility truck (the kind with the tool-cabinets in the sides) for sale, $500.00 -bingo!
We go to check it out and father-in-law doesn't have the key after all. So, we wait for the son-in-law to come over. He says he can be there in 30 minutes. About an hour later, he did show up and we checked out the truck. Ran smooth and sounded great. Every cabinet of the truck was packed full of junk, so we said we'd come back and pick it up the next day (so he'd have a chance to empty it). No, no... couldn't have that. So, instant slave-labor, we help him dig all this rusted mouse-poop covered junk out of the tool-cabinets. He picks up tools and educates us on what they are to show how amazingly smart he is.
dude: You know what this is?
Me: A chalk line.
Dude: It's a chalk line.
(we dig in some more stuff)
Dude: You know what this is?
Me: gutter nail?
Dude: (again ignoring my answer) these are nails you use for gutters. I'll let you have those.
(we dig some more)
Dude: This is a tool pouch
me: (thinking: duh)
Dude: he can put his belt through here, see. You put tools in it. Put that over there. He can have that. He'll want that.
Dude: you know what this is?
Me: a scraper
Dude: that's a scraper. I'll let him have this. Leave that in there. He'll want that. He'll know what it's for.
---and so forth... he must have commented at least three times on different things "He'll want that, now, he'll know what it's for."
Keep in mind this is after he found out I used to work in construction. I guess he assumes my job was to mix the gatorade and Vannah White the finished homes for the owners.
Eventually, he goes to move this large metal tub full of tools and I reach for one side to help him move it.
dude: No, honey, no. You'll just hurt your back. Let him get that.
Me: (silently thinking: Look, retard. I could lift you and the bucket!!! Better yet, I can lift the bucket straight up your a-)
This part is funny. He digs behind the seat and finds some clothes covered in old mud, dead spiders, rat-nest fuzz, and probably some 2-year-old mouse poop etc...
dude says : Hey, here's some jeans. Here, I'll let you have these. They'll fit you.
?? What do we want with his spider-infested rat-poop jeans?
This man is in his early 50's, a successful buisnessman, etc... how did he get so far with no sense?
Eventually, hours later, we escape. No sooner than we get on the main road, there's black smoke coming out of the tail-pipe and regular smoke out of the front end. A couple miles down, the truck dies (out of gas). We call dude from my cell phone and ask if he has a gas can he can bring. He says yes. Stephen says "so can you come give us a hand?" dude says yes.
About half an hour or maybe and hour later, he still hasn't showed up. Stephen calls again and asks what our chances of backing out of the deal are. Dude is not having that, of course, and is suddenly more considerate. He says he'll be on his way with the gas.
This whole time, we are broken down at the end of some guy's long driveway. At this point, Guy
drives down his long drive-way to see us. Did he offer to help push the truck over a bit? No, of course not. Guy says we have to move it right away or he's calling to have it towed.
Just what we need... the towing service would cost more than the truck is worth to us at this point. Guy (aka jerk#2) drives back to his house where he is presumably clutching his phone and timer with a maniacal grin stretched across his empty head.
After a while, Dude finally shows up. We gas up the truck, drive on to the gas station, and then on to Stephen's work where he is now dreadfully late. I got a beer and a salad and was ready to sleep.
How many loads of stuff got moved Thursday? ZERO. I moved a few things Wednesday night, and that's it. I've come in to office-sit while my coworker has a quick lunch break, then I'm off to get to workin on moving again.
Fun fun fun!!! But hey... Stephen looks hot driving that old truck, so all is good.
See, when men feel the need to own a big Humvy or keep their SUV or sportscar sparkling like day one, etc... I admit that I see it as a sign of weekness. After all, it is a sign of intellectual, emotional, and character weakness to need a hunk of metal to prove their manhood. Because of that, I actually find men in old vehicles hot. It's because they are men in and of themselves and not boys with toys. I know that sounds stupid, but I just hate all the status-symbol crap. That's just me.
anyway.... so went day one of moving. Stay tuned for more.
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