The Saga of the Movers

We had a moving company. Had the date set. Paid the deposit. Drew tried to call them to give a credit card number to charge the first half of the balance and someone kept hanging up on him. He went online to verify he had the right number and found a number of reviews for this company.

Very bad reviews.

The kind of nightmare stories where the movers refused to unload the truck until additional money was paid and agreements signed so legal action couldn’t be brought against them.

Needless to say, we changed companies. Drew researched and didn’t find anything negative about the current company.

Then, the day before the movers were scheduled to show up, I get a phone call from our contact, asking if we could postpone the move until the next day. He had already talked to Drew and he said no. He was apparently fishing for the answer he wanted. I also told him no. We were told that the movers had another job but would be here by noon.

Which came and went. Then we were told they would be there by 5.

Which came and went.

Now, at 9pm, we’re pretty sure they’re not coming. Even if they did show up, unless they could get everything loaded before 10pm (loud noise cut off time*), we’d have to send them away.

So, tomorrow morning, we hope. We have to be out of here on the 31^st. We were hoping to have this evening to clean while the place was empty.

* This is one of the (many) things I really liked about this complex. The lack of noise at night.

Goodbye Mr. Phelps

I’m not sure if a farewell is the best beginning, but it does seem to be the first of the (tangible) major changes in preparing to leave Santa Barbara. Mr. Phelps, my truck of 8 years, is now in another’s possession. On one hand, it’s great. He’s going to someone in the construction business who will use him to his best advantage.

But still. I’ll miss him.

Except when I parallel park.