Sunday, July 11, 2010
Day 1004 - Craigslist Disaster
Although Crazy Grandma and Lazy Grandpa returned to Sacramento last month, we still had to fulfill the lease commitment to their apartment and pay through the month of July. So imagine my surprise and satisfaction when the leasing office called and told me that someone was interested in renting the apartment immediately. If I was able to clear out the apartment, then they would prorate us the difference from the rest of the month. Score!
I would be able to clear out the apartment by myself except for three items: the sofabed, the queen sized mattress/box spring, and the seven year old panda bear. After a tasty lunch of panda stew, I just had to figure out how to get rid of the sofa and the bed. And then it came to me. Where is the one place you can buy furniture and find a lover (besides the Ikea in the Red Light District)? Craigslist!
After posting the items, I got a bunch of inquiries and made a deal for the sofa and the bed. A young couple came by to pick up the sofa bed. After I pointed out the milk stain (breast milk, that is) and food marks (diaper leakage), they were more than happy to lug the sofa out of the apartment. Later in the day, a woman said she would come to pick up the bed.
I told her specifically to make sure she brings a friend because that is the only way to get the bed out of the apartment. So imagine how happy I was to see her arrive by herself. Imagine my further happiness when I found out she was this little Japanese woman who could probably hardly carry a crib mattress on her back.
She explained to me that her sister was suppose to come to help her with the bed, but she was unable to come. The woman really wanted the bed, and I really wanted to clear out the apartment, so I decided to help her carry the bed to her car.
I wasn't too sure how this was going to work: a Japanese girl and a Japanese boy who occasionally has been mistaken as a girl carrying out a queen-sized bed did not seem to be a good idea. And a good idea it was not.
Dragging the mattress to her car was not as bad as I thought. Even getting the mattress to the top of her 4Runner was pretty easy. She brought a lot of rope, so I tied it down properly thanks to my participation in Boy Scouts and S&M conventions.
But getting the box spring down was another matter. Although the box spring was much lighter than the mattress, it was not flexible which made it much more difficult getting it around corners. When we made it to the elevator, the box spring stuck out a few inches so the door would not close. The woman swore that if we removed the paneling from the top of the elevator, then the box spring would make the clearance. I told her not to do it. She did it. Somehow her little self got to the top paneling and knocked it down...onto me.
As I saw the metal grate fall on top of me, I put my arms up to protect my face. Of course the grate cut my hands, and I began to bleed. I pushed the box spring out of the elevator and tried to put the metal paneling back on the elevator. Unfortunately, my efforts made things worse because the other panels begun to get loose. I eventually gave up as the top of the elevator looked like a really bad M.C. Esher drawing.
The only way to get the box spring to her car was down three flights of stairs. As we got to the bottom of each flight, I had to flip the box spring over the railing so we could get down one more. I secretly imagined that the box spring would fall on top of her, but that would just be a waste of a perfectly good box spring.
Once again, we got down to the car, and I pushed the box spring on top of the mattress. I used my Boy Scout S&M skills to tie down everything as I continued to bleed from my hand. After she was satisfied with my performance, she handed me the money and thanked me for all my help.
Although I was so tired and angry about this entire situation, I figured she got a bed and I got the apartment cleared. So we both ended up getting what we wanted. The only decent thing I could do to show her my thanks was to shake her hand...with my bloody hand. Thank you, little Japanese woman who bought my bed and is now smeared with my blood. May my bed and blood give you happiness and hepatitis.