Recently, I moved out of my cute little studio into an unfortunate but tolerable 2 bedroom apartment with a complete stranger in order to save money for school. I really would like to have a career instead of a job, so I have to make some sacrifices... That is an entirely different post of its own! Anyway, it is just for summer, so I think I can survive. The unrealized level of filth and cluelessness was unknown to me for obvious reasons. I moved 90% of my things using a very reputable (*cough* cheap *cough*) moving service I found on CL aka robabitch.com, hoesforchange.com, and weirdosunited.org. One of the movers seems like a nice guy. He was quiet but respectful. If I were to overlook the unfortunate neck tattoo, I would say he was cute. That is until he removed his cap and revealed the glory that was his face tattoo. It was clASSy with a capital ASS! In the middle of his otherwise cute face sat two crosses: one of them so elegantly placed upside down **SWOON/Le Sigh**. Such an unfortunate situation! Anyway, as they packed the van with my stuff, I kept running the statistics on the chances of me being robbed, stabbed, or sold to the highest bidder at a street gang auction. I kept coming up with pretty decent odds of that happening, but not enough to call off the move. HEY! I LIVE IN BOSTON! When it is time to move, you will sell your right knee cap for a cheap mover in an otherwise expensive city that gets away with scamming you into accepting dumps as fancy apartments. Judgement free zone over here, people!
We arrive at the magnificent apartment building that gives the Waldorf a run for its snooty money. I mean, we were greeted by empty beer bottles, cigarette butts, and trash! I felt like royalty! AND! The glint from the Whole Foods across the street, baptized me in a holy light that said "You are wholly welcome and most blessed! Go, my child! Live and love well amongst the best citizens this city has to offer." As I prepare to exit my royal chariot and continue to bask in the radiance of Whole Paycheck, the doorman, Jeeves, approaches. By doorman, I mean creepy, dirty, definitely insane old man with teeth missing. The teeth must have escaped the dungeon that houses the remaining brown, slimy teeth trapped in the pits of his diseased gums. His regal attire was expertly stained with food. I am such a lucky girl! Anyway, he continues to tell us we cannot park there because they clean streets between 12-4pm. My cries of "Okay, well if they come, we will move the van." were not enough for this overly concerned gentleman! Oh, such a peach! Fortunately, my royal quarters are located in the bowels of the Waldord 2.0, so we pull around to the back of the building by the parking lot in an alley. Of course, Jeeves is there to greet us with more concerns. I graciously handled the situation by using the universal sign for STOP! said "IF someone needs to move their car, we WILL move the van! THANK YOU for your help." that was followed by my hand making the universal sign for "Close your diseased ass mouth!" I am such a sweety sometimes! I bet he would like to adopt me as his daughter. Needless to say, they moved my furniture, the old man creepy (who is the super of my building, SURPRISE!) did not bother us anymore, and I was not robbed or sold to Paco The Gun for $80!
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