The Daily Dump

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Tuesday, September 6

Timeline of the Weekend (Part 2)


10:00 – Wake up at the time I was supposed to be at James’ to begin the move. I become concerned.

10:30 – Wake up after falling back to sleep feeling strange. Dizzy and a little loopy. I recognize this feeling as still being drunk. I laugh, have a glass of Ovaltine, shower and leave.

11:00 – Get to the bus stop and have a 15 second conversation with The Girlfriend (who is in Boston) as a bus is pulling up three feet from me:

Me: “Hey, how’s it going? I’m getting on a bus.”

TG: “What?”

Me: “Going to James’ to start moving, everything OK there?”

TG: “What?”

Me: “OK, love you, talk to you later.”

TG: “Where are you?”

11:01 – Try to board the bus and my metrocard is rejected. Confused, I try again. And again. And one more time, evidencing my lunacy (defined as hoping for a different outcome despite repeated evidence to the contrary). Finally I realize it must be “that time of the month,” my personal PMS where I realize that my monthly metrocard has run out and I need to buy a new one. I walk off the bus angry.

11:10 – Buy a new metrocard and become even more angry because although I understand that it is a monthly pass, I can’t shale the feeling that I am paying $76 to go to the Upper West side and move furniture.

11:30 – I move two boxes and a bag of pots before breaking for an iced coffee. there is work going on all around me as I pace a small line pausing to look at things as though I am formulating a plan. Really, I am thinking about how much better half and half is in an iced coffee than regular milk.

1:40 – The bulk of the moving out is done, thanks to the elevator. Everyone takes off in different cars for Brooklyn leaving James and I behind to drive the moving truck. We get in, start it up and pull away. As we pull away, we hear a noise that can only be described as a bag of cast iron pans falling out of a moving truck. We stop to inspect, and as it turns out a bag of cast iron pans fell out of the back of the truck when we drove away with the back door open. I confidently say, “At least nothing else fell out. That’s evidence of a good packing job right there.” Part of me believes my “planning” from before is responsible for this good packing job.

2:10 – James and I are stuck in hellish traffic moving down 2nd Avenue. James looks at me and says, “I can’t believe how we were dancing last night. It was like we went out dancing. In fact, if someone asked me what I did last night, I would say, “I went out dancing with Dan.” I can’t argue with him.

2:35 – Finally get to Brooklyn, which we realize when we see gas stations, shingled houses and chain link fences. Everyone else has arrived at the new apartment before us. As soon as we get out of the car, I find that I need lunch. James brother Pete and I walk down to a deli (“Well hey, at least you live near a deli . . .”) and order our sandwiches. There are three people behind the counter and Me, Pete and two other customers in the deli.

2:50 – Still waiting for our sandwiches. Pete and I are exchanging glances that ask: “What should we do? Should we ask about the sandwiches? They look busy, but busy doing what?” It is a phenomenon of sorts how slowly our sandwiches are made, as though effort was put into retarding the process of putting meat on bread.

2:55 – Regardless, the sandwiches are quite good. Just set aside about 20 minutes when planning on buying from there.

(Side note: I just called Time Warner to cancel the appointment I supposedly had for tonight – the one that was rescheduled after never really existing for last night. I told the operator I needed to cancel the appointment for tonight because I wouldn’t be there. She said I didn’t have an appointment scheduled for tonight. I said I wasn’t surprised.)

3:20 – Once again I stand around eating while others work. I don’t feel bad about this until James’ father comments “What have you got there, a five course meal?” Fact: I don’t know what age it is where your friends’ fathers and you are viewed as equals, but that age is definitely not 25.

4:00 – As we contemplate the formation of the “chain” to get boxes up the steps, a ridiculously hot girl comes down the steps walking her dog. We step to the side and all mutter something that is meant to be friendly but probably comes out creepy. This is what transpires as she leaves:

Me: “I didn’t know they had them here.”

Matt: “She was old.”

John: “But she was hot.”

Matt: “She was old and hot.”

4:10 – The “chain” is formed with great success. We go about the task of determining who will stand where with great precision. Then we announce what is being handed up the snaking stairway by shouting things like, “Heavy box!” or “Bulky clothes!” or “Two lamps, a throw rug and a tackle box!”

5:00 – As we are finishing up the move, we recount how many attractive women we saw coming in and out of James’ new building, which is called “The Astral” (apparently a historic building constructed in the late 1800’s.) I then dub the building “The Ass Trail” and we all have a good laugh. I consider this to be a relatively good play on words.

5:30 – Get home, sit on the couch, don’t remember much after that.

(In Part 3, I get on a train to Long Island, and I contemplate homicide!)


I would think that Ovaltine would have given you enough energy to move someone without you needing those sandwiches later on...

So many memories of Ovaltine. I think I will go out and buy some now. I'm assuming they still make pop-tarts also?

By Anonymous Neil, at 7:20 PM  

Ovaltine is by far the greatest chocolate drink ever made, topping Hershey's and Yoohoo with ease, and even edging out Quik.

Poptarts - from what I know, they do still make them. But I never really ate them. I always thought I liked them, then once or twice a year I would buy them, have a few bites and realize again that I don't like them. In fact, I should be buying some within the next few weeks.

By Blogger the belligerent intellectual, at 7:43 PM  

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