An Ode to The Woefully Unorganized

It’s no secret that among men aiding another dude with moving a couch is currency. It has been this way since about five minutes after the first couch was invented.  Hell if the men of Greece actually got off of their a**es and moved all of the couches in the Greek Isles their debt situation would change dramatically because of the man currency generated from said couch moving. Helping another dude move can be stressful but God bless the man who helps an unorganized man move.

On Saturday, yours truly stepped into the breach and helped his neighbor move away. Let’s call him Flanders. I’ve been helping Flanders carry things to his new place for a few weeks because I figured that I know what it’s like not to have a vehicle and have to move so this was the kind thing to do.[i] Saturday was anything but a cool day so I was hoping that we could get the rest of the move done quickly so that I can continue with my Saturday. In lieu of renting a frigging U-Haul for the day, Flanders does the hood thing and pays “some guy” he knows with a pick-up truck and a trailer to carry the stuff over for $50 per trip. (I could be wrong but I think a U-Haul would have been cheaper.)

This should have been my first sign that this “final move” was going to go to the left. The guy shows up with his truck and trailer and DOES NOT get out. He just sits there with the windows down, snoring, and listening to Johnnie Taylor. By all accounts this lazy f*ck appeared to be what fellow blogger LaLa refers to as a Macaroni Tony.[ii] So we get started and when I get to Flanders’ apartment I’m immediately pissed. They have nothing ready to go. Between he and his wife Maude, they have not emptied any dresser drawers, unhooked a TV, or did the standard “we’ll move the essentials first” check list. Due to the fact that I’m only getting paid in Karma points I chime in and say “All of these drawers from the dressers need to be emptied and moved separately.

Long story short, what should have been done in two hours was stretched to four. On the last load the old dude in the truck decided to hold Flanders’ furniture hostage until he got paid. So I chunked a deuce and went home to get some coffee before I hulked out. Four hours that I’ll never get back but those Karma points will help.[iii]

I’m not an organizational wizard but there is something to be said having a plan. Word to Jeru, organizational skill kills more devils than bullets. Maybe I’m being an a** or a snob or something but is it too much to have your sh*t ready or have a plan when someone else’s time, sweat, and back are involved? Has this ever happened to y’all? Ever help someone with something (Not necessarily moving.) and realized that you were walking into a complete quagmire? Did you speak up and start adding your two cents to help things along? (I did!) If so then tell it.

Vaya con Dios.

[i] I’m not an Ogre after all… I’ve got layers.

[ii] You may have to check with LaLa but by definition a Macaroni Tony is an old dude who spends his time trying to holler at younger women. This was latter confirmed when Flanders said all this guy did was “trick”.

[iii] I need all of the Karma points I can get. There was an “incident” in a Moroccan village that I will never, ever to fully explain. MMM….kay.


8 responses to “An Ode to The Woefully Unorganized

  1. The story had me rolling. Reminded me of the time I was asked to help my homegirl move. I get there and this chick has nothing packed, like NOTHING. Not the kitchen, not the bathroom, not her son’s room. Not a thing!!! I was livid. Of course, I’m cussing like “how the **** do you not have ANYTHING packed yet?” She was acting like she didn’t know this move was happening in advance or something . Then on top of that, she had zero moving supplies. No boxes, no tape, no rubbermaid totes, nothing!

    While I’m just sitting there in utter disbelief, her parents show up to help out also. Mom walks in, takes one look at the situation and goes completely off when she sees that nothing was ready to go. Dad just has a bewildered look on his face, and starts shaking his head.
    At that point, I tell my friend, “hey, I’m here for an hour, and I’ll do what I can, but after that I gotta go.” We ended up throwing what we could fit in my car, in black trash bags and moving it. After that hour was over I got the hell outta dodge.
    I hated to bounce on her, but seriously– if someone is taking time out of their day to help you out, the LEAST you can do is have things ready to go when your help arrives.

  2. My aunt did this mess to us once. Some people don’t understand the difference between “help me move” (carry ready-to-go items to the vehicle) and “move me” (you do all the freakin’ work, sucka). I was still in high school when the moving incident happened, but because there was all-around confusion as to whether she was in the wrong or we were the dummies for agreeing to help her in the first place when we knew she wasn’t right, I was permitted to fuss at her like I was her mama about how she “didn’t make no sense.”

    • I think part what tires you out when the lack of planning is going on is the fact that you are frustrated. Sure you have to move someone’s crap in the head but the fact that they weren’t prepped for it only adds to the fatigue.

  3. I’ve never had to experience anything like this luckily. I’d most certainly be heated, but I’d probably bite my lip and just try to get everything done as quickly as possible. When I agree to help someone, I help them even when they don’t respect my time because my word is important to me.

    I’m actually moving in a month and I’m getting some friends to help so I’ve already started getting all the planning together.

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