I don’t claim to be a brilliant man. At least not while sober. But I’ll tell ya this: helping someone move sucks. One might also say it’s “weak.” Or perhaps “weak-ass weak.” Or even “weak-y weak-er weak-o-matically weak.”
If one said any (or all) of these things about helping someone move, one would be extremely right.
Moving is terrible. And that’s because it involves three terrible things:
- Heavy lifting
- Getting off my butt
- Helping a fellow human being
Now, that third thing isn’t necessarily that terrible. It’s OK to help out other people sometimes. Here are examples of some situations where it’s OK to help out other people:
- If you owe them, and I mean big time
Anyway, the point of all this is that my friend was excited the other day, and I mean really fired up, because he was going to help someone move. This is the complete wrong reaction people. You are not happy to help someone move. You should avoid it at all costs.
You should tell them you’ve already made plans. Tell them you’re retiling the floor. Tell them you’ve got to go feed the homeless. All of them. Tell them you’ve become extremely agoraphobic. And claustrophobic; cover your bases. Tell them you’re actually in the mob but you’ve recently turned state’s evidence. If they question you on this, get tough. Name names. Tell them you’re getting married that day. Tell them you’re dead. Tell them you’re marrying someone who’s dead. Tell them anything.
But don’t tell them you’ll help. And certainly don’t be excited about the whole thing.
Lord, the whole reason I’m not friends with a lot of people is so I won’t have to help a lot of people move. That’s why I only befriend people who have settled down. All my friends are at least 50, and most have a mortgage on a home. It’s just safer that way.
So everybody just calm down and think about what you’re getting excited about. And if moving really makes you that happy, you can feel free to come over to my apartment and move my pull-out couch up and down my four flights of narrow stairs. And to really add to the fun, after each trip, I’ll argue with you about the best way to turn the couch to get it around the corners. And then I’ll poke you in the eye with a fork because that’d probably be fun for you too.
All right, enough, I apologize for my tone. Return to your normal lives. Just do me one favor: if someone shows up at your door with a U-Haul, run. Just run.