I don’t know what that title means, but I’ve been waiting until it was late September to use it, so THERE!
Moving with BestGuyFriend-M was hilariously hilarious. We went to his old condo to “pick up the last few things.” I should have brought something like, oh, a U-Haul, because his “last few things” were equivalent to what I would term “enough stuff to send to a homeless Katrina Hurricane Family.”
When we were cleaning out the refrigerator, there were like 3 dozen old eggs. We threw them into the trash and once the car was filled, we decided to take what we had to his new place, stopping to drop the trash. We illegally dumped the trash somewhere that shall remain undisclosed due to the sign that said “No public dumping, fines of $500.”
As we unloaded the boxes and other half-assed packed things at his new place, we realized that one of those eggs made a great eggscape – all over the back seat of his convertible Saab. It smashed right next to the latest pile of bird shit from his last foray parking under a tree. This is why I don’t drive a convertible.
We clean the egg the best we can and it becomes obvious that we would have to make several trips to the car to get all the stuff. This is inconvenient based on the placement of his parking space and the elevator, so I insist on taking it all at once. This results in me piling all the boxes on top of each other and getting on my knees and pushing it down the hall. But the boxes must have been heavier than I was (impossible) because every time I pushed, I only ended up pushing myself in the backward direction across the marble tile in the hall. M was hysterically laughing at me as he wheeled his ONE suitcase down the hall to his front door. I was a madwoman, but I got on my ass and pushed the boxes with my legs. That worked much better. Just as I pushed them over the threshold of the front door, he said “Thanks for your help” and slammed the door. When he opened it, I was laying on my back in the hall mumbling about what a good friend I was. Then he suggested we go get some food – at this point it’s about midnight. He asked me what I wanted to eat. My answer was priceless.
“I’ll have a backseat omelette with a side of birdshit.”
We could not stop laughing. M is a friend who I will still do favors for.