Wednesday, May 04, 2022

Can this be our last moving day?

Darcy is out of the house! Moving took two days of heavy lifting, stair climbing, renting trucks, building furniture, and tension. That came on the mother/daughter side and had more to do with proving she could manage independently. Unfortunately, the apartment was not move-in ready, and while this was not her fault, she was concerned it put a flag on a judgment list she assumed I kept.

We hashed all of that out later.

Friday's moving involved the two of us unpacking our cars with what she and Oleg had loaded the night before--in the dark. Tom's headlight (that is a story in itself, and one I should blog) came in handy. Although every time Darcy looked at us, we were blinded by the light. 



Darcy and I arrived at the complex at the same time. She signed paperwork and went over things with the apartment rental lady (APL), who seemed angry at having to do her job. No, maybe more put out--exasperated. For example, she gave out one guest parking pass. I piped in and asked for another since we would have several loaded guest cars tomorrow.

ARL: "I can't just give you nine guest passes!"

Where she came up with that number is beyond me, but Darcy smiled and asked for one more. She begrudgingly gave it. 

We were given the keys, and when the property manager, a much nicer woman, offered to walk us to the apartment, Darcy told her we had it. In hindsight, we should have taken her up on that offer.

The apartment is two levels, painted the gray color I'd like for my own home, and was spacious. In the back is a little porch with a sliding glass door. I went to test the door and discovered there was no handle. There was a lock and a security bar but no handle. Opening it, the door leaned outward instead of rolling to my right. I told Darcy she should call about that.

Meanwhile, Darcy's friend arrived, and they left me to pick up the rental van to get Darcy's newly purchased bedroom furniture. I set about unloading boxes and cleaning scuff marks off of the walls. A knock sounded at the door. I opened it to find the maintenance man and his minion. I knew who he was because he'd come into the office while Darcy was signing papers, and I witnessed an exchange between him and APL regarding repairs. He was worse than her in his attitude.

He marched into the apartment, pointed at the back door, and loudly asked if I had an issue with the back fence.

Me: "No. I called about the sliding glass door. It doesn't open properly."

Him: "It's safe. Right here is the security bar."

Me: "It isn't safe. It doesn't open properly."

Him: "There aren't any rollers."

Me: "How do I get those?"

Him: "Call the office! Tell the office! But I can't do everything! They want that from me, and it isn't possible. Tell the office! But I won't get to it today."

He was marching back to the front door while he gave this speech in an angry, stop-bothering-me-with-nonsense-lady voice. Before I could utter a word, he and his minion had walked out and climbed aboard their golf cart. 

Him: "Tell the office."

They drove away. I hiked to the office, arriving just as ARL appeared outside for a smoke break. She was not happy to see me. I wasn't any happier at having to seek her out. We had an exchange where I mentioned the rudeness of the maintenance man. She told me to tell her about it, she'd been dealing with him since August, and she'd report it all to the property manager. I mentioned my husband's employment with law enforcement, something I often do much to the girl's amusement. But why wouldn't I use what I have? That is a lesson I've taught them. One day, maybe they will see the benefit. told her he would not be happy about the security and shook my head like she did not even want to mess with my six-two, scarecrow hulking husband.

She was unimpressed and lit up her cigarette. I left. 

I turned the wrong way. I hiked until I reached the back of the property, where I found the maintenance man hiding around the corner, just sitting on his golf cart.

Him: "You lost?" He found this hilarious.

Me: "I am." 

I turned back around, saw the pond, and headed that way.

Him: "You can't go there unless you can--uh--walk on--"

Me: "Swim?"

Him: (more hilarious laughter) "Yes, swim! Unless you swim, you have to go all the way around."

I contemplated hopping on his golf cart and demanding he return me to the apartment, but I managed he would tell me that was against the rules, so I refrained from shooting him the bird and hiked back to Darcy's place, frantically texting her that I was lost. 

When I returned, there came another knock on the door. ARL had sent another guy to check out the safety of the sliding glass door.

Other Guy: "I don't work here. I'm just helping out. They are swamped."

He was very nice. He told me the door was missing rollers, that it couldn't be repaired until parts were ordered, that the handle was missing and would need to be replaced, and agreed things were secure as long as it remained broken.

Other Guy: "I mean, opening it will be a problem. Keep the security bar locked in place. They'll get to it when they can. I don't work here, but I'll let them know what I found. Sorry, this is happening. I hope the rest of your move goes well."

Darcy and her friend showed up in the rental van and proceeded to unload the furniture. We worried about getting the dresser box out and in since I can't lift things. I suggested we take boxes out of the dumpster, open them, and use them to push the furniture. It worked like a charm!




Who needs a man?

The next day Darcy's roomie, Sofie, and the rest of the gang descended. We unloaded Sofie's rental van by forming a line and handing items over to each other. While the men lifted and carried furniture upstairs, Darcy and Sofie unloaded boxes and put things away, and Madison and I put together bar stools and the kitchen table. We had a lunch break and continued until everything significant was unloaded and set up.


She runs all over the state in several different counties, so she will be here at times when working in this county. But we will miss her while she lives the life of an independent adult. 
Fly, little bird, fly!


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