Frank's move
“Can you help me move in three weeks on Saturday?” Frank asks me.
I have to say that I would always rather help someone else move than move myself.
I would rather break a friend's expensive vase than my wife's expensive vase.
I'd rather have my good friends' couches not fit through the stairwell than my own. The moving of Ross's couch from Friends is my favorite scene for a reason 😉
But none of that would happen with Frank.
If I know anyone who is very precise with his things and takes very good care of them, it is Frank.
I can already see it: in every room of his old house, boxes are neatly stacked with labels indicating what is in the box and where the box should go.
Can't miss, that'll be an easy move.
So yes, I would be happy to help Frank.
On Saturday morning we trickle into Frank's with a few acquaintances.
Coffee!
Yes, nice. But of course it's already packed. Frank can't think of everything.
So we start to lug the stuff into the rented van with great enthusiasm.
Frank keeps giving instructions on the order in which everything should go in the bus. It's great not having to think for yourself for a day.
When I see that there is another piano in the room, I say to myself: don't think now! Frank has probably already done that thinking!
After a few trips with boxes, couches, beds and cupboards, the piano is still there.
I keep my mouth shut.
But my hope that the piano would remain in the old house is dashed.
The piano does not move with Frank to his new house, but to his aunt's.
Frank's aunt lives in an upstairs apartment.
It's only 1 step.
OK then, 1 flight of stairs with a bend.
Have you ever done that, with 4 men lifting a piano up a staircase with a bend? And a Frank who keeps shouting: careful, the piano has just been tuned!
My advice: Hoist that thing through the window, not down a flight of stairs. Then let Frank do something else.
Well, we've come a long way. The piano is almost at the top. Only the last bend to go.
Sweat is running down my back into my underwear. The other movers are starting to stink a little too. This job can't take too long.
The piano doesn't seem to fit. Or does it?
I give it a big push and hear some cracking.
“Careful!” shouts Frank.
“That was just the railing!” I shout back.
And I give another big push.
That was a bit too little policy.
Something breaks inside the piano, and the whole thing falls apart. With a thundering noise, all the parts of the piano fall down in pieces.
Now it fits upstairs – says one of the movers dryly. Yes, in plastic bags.
There is little left to save on the piano.
Voting is pointless. False thing.
That will be an extra trip to the environmental park. Nice sight: all those black and white keys in the bin for residual waste.
We sit satisfied in Frank's new living room.
Frank is getting Chinese food and beer.
We look around and wonder how on earth we got all that junk into the living room. Did he have that many boxes for the living room?
We chuckle at the thought that Frank doesn't have a single box in any of the correct rooms tonight.
But yes, if we had put all the boxes in the right rooms, we would have been done much too quickly. Then there would have been no Chinese and beer for us.
Maybe you shouldn't ask me to help you move.
But I can help you with a bus. For tomorrow all moving vans in the Maastricht region reserved, but if you want to move before the end of the month, are there still a few available next week
PS for the Friends fans, here you go: Ross's bank that keeps shouting PIVOT.
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