I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving! I know I'm a little bit behind with the holiday well wishes but, well I've been busy and important.
My Turkey Day was great. It was totally chill and delicious and just what I needed. Some of the highlights were the stuffing and teaching my cousin Pam what the term "motorboating" means. ("Above the waist! Not below!"). God, I love my family...
On Thanksgiving weekend I moved. Now, mind you I have moved multiple times. Hiring movers is the way to go. You pack up all your stuff, you organize it nice and neat and they do all the heavy lifting. All you have to do is drink coffee, talk on the phone and be available to point to where the bathroom is.
With that being said, this was bar-none my weirdeset move to date.
First the dudes were late. Which, you know whatever. It happens. Peeps be late. But when they did arrive they smelled like booze and stale ass.
Awesome.
So the movers couldn't pull their truck right in front of my building because there was a lonely car still parked there, so they pulled into the alley a few feet away. This is the alley that leads to my white trash neighbors house. We call them Domestic Dispute because they are always screaming and yelling at eachother and on one occassion the mother was hollering that she was going to hang herself and "is that how he wanted his son to find her?!?!!?!?? Hanging from the ceiling."
Oh and did I mention she wears an alcohol monitoring bracelet? (What? House Arrest is classy.)
The two movers come up and start to tell me how the neighbor is yelling at the them to move their truck because the mother-in-law can't even git by with her strollah. For the record there was plenty of room for a triple-wide strollah let alone a single strollah.
So we think all is cool until I notice that only one of the movers is coming up and down the stairs. Finally, while he's carrying 1 of the 5 boxes filled with shoes he says to me, "I feel so bad for Eric. Your neighbors won't leave him alone."
It was at this point that my sister sauntered down the stairs and in her best Boston accent asked Domestic Dispute what the problem was and what can we do hea to remedy it.
"Well my motha-in-law can't get by with her strollah."
"Sir. If ya'd just let the guyz do thei-ah jobs we can be outta hea in like a half hou-ah."
"Well ya know. A half hou-ah turns inta two hou-ahs."
"You know. We've been good neighbahs to yiz. This isn't very neighbahly."
"No No I know. And you know I don't want to get the police involved since I just got outta jail."
With that Domestic Dispute took one last drag of his Kool and went back to his shackled wife to let Gentle Giant finish the job.
About twenty minutes went by when I noticed something that didn't quite fit. I stood up and saw a dog running around my now empty living room.
"There's a dog in the apartment."
My sister's eyes got all wide. I totally knew she was thinking Rotweiller.
"Shana. Relax."
I walked down the hallway and saw the pooch. White. Curly hair. Friendly enough.
"Um. Hi pup."
*woof*
"I think you're lost."
*sniff*
I took hold of his dog tags and saw that he lived at 68 Marine Road. Right around the corner.
"Ok buddy. Let's get you home."
He followed me out the door and then instead of taking a left with me took a right and peaced out down Columbia Road.
"Uh. Ok..."
I decided to go knock on 68 Marine Roads door anyway to let them know that their dog was barking and entering.
No one was home. Cool.
The movers finally finished up around 1:30.
"It would've been a lot faster if we could've parked outside. But what can you do?"
"Yeah what can you do right?"
I hopped in my car and prepared to drive away. That was when I noticed my downstairs neighbor come out with her boyfriend. They looked around timidly and then exited into the sunlight right into the car that was parked out front! That was her car! That bitch! And she knew I was moving too. I knocked on her door the night before and asked her if she wanted any furniture. So effing rude. It's not like she was hard up for parking. All she had to do was move up four feet and she still would've been out front and left plenty of room for the moving truck.
I'm going to miss living in Southie but not going to miss having rude trashy assholes for neighbahs.