I'm Never Moving Again.

After this past move, I seriously never want to move again.

I've moved once a year in the past six years, so basically I'm over it. And while I know this is not exactly logical because eventually I'm going to have to relocate my things, I really mean it.

Let me fill you in on how moving works in the Boston/Brighton/Allston area. Everyone moves on September 1st. EVERYONE. It is one giant apartment shuffle with five Uhauls on every street.  The reason this happens is because there are only June and September leases widely available. Sure there are the random May leases, or even occasionally an August one, but those are usually rented out to the lucky few by private owners and not property management companies. Combine the mass apartment swapping with all the one-ways they have going on and the T and it's pretty treacherous.

This is why me and my soon-to-be roomie Eloisa booked our Uhaul and two spry movers in April. I'm not kidding. We booked our Uhaul in April and they told us that if we had called the next week we might not have gotten one at all. I'd also asked a friend from the area who was wisely not moving to lend an extra set of hands and maybe even drive the Uhaul because Eloisa and I were a little hesitant about driving in Boston. Especially on the day that locals call "Allston Christmas."

 Some wires got crossed and she ended up going out of town for Labor Day, and I really wish I could have gone with her. But as a result we felt very unprepared about the impending move/doom. We worried about being able to pull off the move with just the two of us the night before the big day and then even with the help of the two moving guys the day of. Time was an issue because Uhaul truck had a drop-off time and also driving said truck was going to be a chore because of parking. Apparently Eloisa had been discussing the stress of the move with her boyfriend, who is from New Hampshire, and out of guilt he offered up one of his friends to help us since he couldn't help us himself. He lives across the country so he gets a pass but I think he offered Danny as a peace offering. One that we gladly accepted.

Danny was a godsend. I don't know how we would have made it through the weekend without him. He came straight from work which is about a 45 minute drive to come help drive the Uhaul. As an attempt to pay him back in some small way we had pizza waiting for him, which he ate in the car on the way to pick up the truck. We were under the impression that it was okay to park his car in the Uhaul lot overnight, but that was not the case so I had to drive his car while he drove the Uhaul. His car is a stick-shift, and even though I learned to drive a stick years ago, I was a little stressed. I'm not an aggressive driver and people around here drive like idiots. There's a lot of honking. People are always trying to beat the T, which is an awful idea in my opinion. I almost got hit by some Asian lady who didn't even look before switching lanes. But I did it without getting injured or crashing the car so I considered it a huge success.

Then came the fun part. Luckily, we had thought to stop off at the liquor store en route to the apartment before we started the heavy lifting. Eloisa and Danny parked his car in the liquor store parking lot down the street and I waited with the truck on the street to save our spot. Then we did a quick 'cheers' and drank one beer/cider to commemorate the beginning of our hellish weekend. We loaded the contents of Eloisa's apartment into the truck while other people in her building were doing the same. And we did it pretty quickly considering our serious lack of muscle. I kind of wish we would have timed it.

Then while Eloisa waited for her landlord to inspect her apartment, me and Danny went straight to my apartment and loaded up all of my stuff. Let me just remind you that this is the first time I've met Danny. We have never hung out previous to this day and he gave up his Saturday night to come help his friend's girlfriend and friend move, expecting no payback whatsoever.

After loading the truck we were all drenched in sweat from humidity and all the trips up and down the stairs. Our friend Ashley graciously let us stay at her house for the night since all the cheap hotels nearby were booked. So we parked the Uhaul in her driveway and decided we needed more booze to celebrate phase one of moving day coming to a close. I offered to walk with Danny back to his car and to buy a bottle of something, or a case of beer. When we got to the liquor store it was closed. This was not our only problem. The bigger problem was that in the time that it took for us to load up the truck, Danny's car had been towed from the parking lot.

I felt awful. Here this guy is trying to be nice and help two desperate girls out and his car gets freaking towed. But Danny just rolled with it and we went to get his car from the tow-lot. We hitchhiked there, catching a ride with a pizza delivery guy we made friends with in the parking lot. Which I would never normally do, but I was with Danny so I felt pretty safe. Not to mention it was just down the block.

After paying for the tow, that Danny had to pay for himself because they only accepted cash, we drove back to Ashley's to shower. Then we settled down to eat some wings (that we picked up on the way back) and to drink our remaining supply of alcohol while playing Bananagrams. We wanted to relax after the stress of moving and the car being towed. One of Ashley's roommates, Shin, came home and joined us and we ended up having a really fun time. Then it was off to bed to rest up for round two the next morning. But the next day would be easier, we'd have the help of the two movers and we'd get the job done in no time, right? Wrong.

We woke up when Eloisa's phone started ringing and the screen showed a local number. It was 8:30 in the morning the day of our move and the caller let us that our movers were cancelling. They gave us a simple explanation that they had overbooked and informed us that no one would be there to help us at noon. And our truck had to be back by three o'clock that afternoon. We were, to put it bluntly, screwed. It was too late to find other movers especially ones with a reasonable prices, and it was too early for me to start panicking especially because I hadn't even had any breakfast or coffee yet.

Then here comes Danny who calls the Uhaul place to try to explain our situation. He works in customer service so talking to people on the phone is kind of what he gets paid for. He told the woman from the Uhaul place that the movers Uhaul had outsourced called to cancel. And because of that we were unsure of whether we would make our drop-off time or not. Then he stayed around to help us move. Again.

The move on the second day happened in a blur. Partly because there were so many people around and partly because it was pouring rain for part of our move. Danny drove the truck again, parked it like a champ in front of our building and then we began unloading the truck as fast as we could. I forgot to mention before that the two apartments we moved out of were on the third floor--and so is our new place.

So we loaded our belongings, with the help of Ashley and Danny, into the lobby because we only had 20 minutes in our spot. There was literally a line of other Uhauls waiting behind ours. Some random guys that were either moving in or moving out saw that we had one guy and three girls so they started helping us with our stuff also. A few things broke, like my bookshelf--yet my wonky dresser miraculously survived. But nothing major was damaged. In no time all of our belongings were transferred to the new place and set haphazardly in the living room.

We were in no mood to open any of the boxes or get organized plus we had to return the Uhaul. So, I drove Danny's car, Danny drove the Uhaul, Eloisa rode shotgun in the truck, and Ashley headed home.   I made it to the Uhaul place before the other two, so I waited in the parking lot of a near-by gas station until they showed up. Because just like it was chaos getting the Uhaul, returning it was equally chaotic.

Then we all piled into Danny's Subaru or the "subee" and headed to Southie. Danny convinced me and Eloisa that we were in need of a little Sunday Funday action, so we decided to have a few post-move drinks. The bar we went to was so...Southie. Family owned by Irish immigrants, kind of dive-y, but luckily not the kind of bar we needed to be dressed up to be at. We were a little haggard looking, I'm not going to lie. Or at least we felt that way. We had gotten rained on, sweated more than I thought a person could sweat in one weekend, and were covered in a mysterious layer of dirt, dust and general grime. Not pretty.

But in spite of our outward appearance our little group arrived at the Shannon in Southie to de-stress. To drink a few beers/ciders, eat some much needed food, and play a few mindless games of pool with Bobby the bartender when his shift ended. And that was the grand yet mellow finale of our moving weekend.

The girls were tired (me and Eloisa) so Danny's friend Bobby graciously drove us back our apartment instead of letting us take the T home (our trip would have taken close to an hour). Again, this gesture was offered by a guy I had just met, and it was very much appreciated. We exchanged hugs and promised Danny a couch, a meal, or a drink whenever he is in the Boston area.

And that is the terribly true story of how we moved on September 1st in Boston during a flash flood warning. Jealous?

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