Truth is, moving has always been hard on material goods. I’d rather damage my own stuff than pay someone large sums of money to destroy mine for me.
Finally last night stuff was delivered from my dad’s house to here via big truck.
I am less than pleased. Luckily a weapon was not handy.
I had been looking forward all summer to getting a secretary that belonged to my grandparents – my favorite grandparents.
The driver tried to put that aside in the shop saying “it had some damage, broken glass, so I put it out there.”
I wasn’t happy but moved on with the rest of the stuff.
Then I went out to the garage and started cutting away the packing material. The driver tried to call me over for some paperwork before I looked too closely but I said “It can wait” in my quietest “don’t screw with me or you’ll find out just how awful bad I can be when I put my mind to it” voice. Clint Eastwood would be proud.
The covers fell away and I saw what had been done.
****!!! THE ONE THING THAT I REALLY TREASURED… THE ONE ****ING THING!! AND IT IS ****ED UP!! … … ****!!! GODDAMN IT, THE ONE ****ING THING THAT REALLY MEANT SOMETHING TO ME AND YOU GUYS ****ING TREATED IT LIKE IT WAS A PIECE OF ****ING TRASH!
Then I got angry.
The piece was partially demolished. The glass was broken out, the back was cracked all up and down, and the backing above a curio shelf was torn completely off. One of the casters was ripped out.
The guy looked a bit nervous, and rightfully so, seeing me go from calm and affable to furious and then back to quiet, oh so quiet. It’s when I get quiet that things are… bad.
It’s probably a good thing that I didn’t have something with destructive capabilities handy (even though I was in my garage).
This is why I refuse to move my grandmother’s mahogany bed to the US. I would rather it stay in Puerto Rico, than run the risk of it being damaged.
Make sure they pay, in every way.
It was a tense night for me.
I am underwhelmed with their performance.
I’m pretty sure the driver that delivered it did not do the damage but he did recognize my thoughts and said “Yeah, it’s not a money or dollar amount thing – it’s the fact that it’s a family piece over a hundred years old.”
Yeah, you got that right, buddy.
GET BACK TO BED!!!!!
😀
Bed? I’m at work.
Seriously Aggie, if I stopped because I was in pain I wouldn’t have worked the last three years. I’m not wired that way. I’d have to be worse off than I am now to do that.
Painkillers are nastyevilvilethings but they do serve a purpose. All things considered I’d rather hop in my time machine and go back and have a beer instead.
Ok, I understand that. And totally weird, but I just noticed “evil” and “vile” have the same letters. It took me a while to read your “word” 😀
Yes, isn’t that the coolest thing?
But there are differences so we can’t overgeneralize, you understand.
For instance, you can say (as I heard on the radio): “Yeah, but is it a tasty kind of vile?”
But it doesn’t work thusly: “Yeah, but is it a tasty kind of evil?”
Wait. Maybe it does work out. Nevermind.
Tasty Kind of Evil
I smell the next LK novel….
Filing a claim at least, I hope?
Oh hell yes. They don’t get to destroy my grandparent’s stuff without cost.
They lost a chair and dropped a bookcase, too. Oh joy.
Kill them all, and let me sort it out. God is too busy.
Aggie, I heard a better one:
Of course he will. That’s why he sends me 😉