Movers & Shakers
Today was wet and grimy. Nasty day to be moving, especially for such a jerk-face customer.
Yesterday was funnier... our customer was an elderly French woman, assisted by her 6 adult children. Although her husband of 52 years was dying in hospice, she couldn't have been kinder to Andy Shaw and myself all day. She was very energetic for such a frail little thing, and absolutely ecstatic that I spouted my execrable French at her during the course of the move. She very generously complimented me on what she called my "perfect Parisian accent" and graciously overlooked my lapses in vocabulary (I referred to her dresser as "The thing of wood, which is square"). At one point I returned to the truck with an armload of pads and noticed Shaw looking at me with a curious expression that mingled concern with amusement. "What is it," I asked. "Do I have tape stuck to me?"
"No," said Shaw, "but I'm wondering if you have another pair of shorts you can wear, because your ass is hanging out of the back of those."
Sure enough, he was right. There was a HUGE tear across the back of my cargo shorts that exposed my right buttcheek for the entire family to see as I lifted furniture and squatted with boxes in the apartment. Like those flaps on a Union suit, only unintentional. I was mortified, but there was nothing for it. We were not even halfway through the offload. I had to shake my exposed moneymaker for another hour or so before we could go home. I did the best I could to keep my back to the wall for most of this time, but I'm sure the family got to see way more of me than they ever wanted to regardless.
At the end of the day, when we got back to the warehouse, there were a few other co-workers hanging out, drinking beer. When I told them my tale of woe, after the laughter had subsided, Buster offered me a position in the company he was going to start, "Movers & Shakers"... the idea being that we wear speedos and bowties as uniforms on the job. I pointed out that since Shaw and I had gotten a $150 tip to split from our customer, he might be on to something.
Yesterday was funnier... our customer was an elderly French woman, assisted by her 6 adult children. Although her husband of 52 years was dying in hospice, she couldn't have been kinder to Andy Shaw and myself all day. She was very energetic for such a frail little thing, and absolutely ecstatic that I spouted my execrable French at her during the course of the move. She very generously complimented me on what she called my "perfect Parisian accent" and graciously overlooked my lapses in vocabulary (I referred to her dresser as "The thing of wood, which is square"). At one point I returned to the truck with an armload of pads and noticed Shaw looking at me with a curious expression that mingled concern with amusement. "What is it," I asked. "Do I have tape stuck to me?"
"No," said Shaw, "but I'm wondering if you have another pair of shorts you can wear, because your ass is hanging out of the back of those."
Sure enough, he was right. There was a HUGE tear across the back of my cargo shorts that exposed my right buttcheek for the entire family to see as I lifted furniture and squatted with boxes in the apartment. Like those flaps on a Union suit, only unintentional. I was mortified, but there was nothing for it. We were not even halfway through the offload. I had to shake my exposed moneymaker for another hour or so before we could go home. I did the best I could to keep my back to the wall for most of this time, but I'm sure the family got to see way more of me than they ever wanted to regardless.
At the end of the day, when we got back to the warehouse, there were a few other co-workers hanging out, drinking beer. When I told them my tale of woe, after the laughter had subsided, Buster offered me a position in the company he was going to start, "Movers & Shakers"... the idea being that we wear speedos and bowties as uniforms on the job. I pointed out that since Shaw and I had gotten a $150 tip to split from our customer, he might be on to something.