LeishBlog

Well we knew that moving day would produce a memorable blog entry but no one thought as many blog worthy things could occur in such a short space of time.
First things first, Justin and I hired a truck. Yep a truck, a gay and the brunette, moving our own furniture and driving a big mother of a truck. Guess who said she would drive?

So we turned up at the hire truck place and I lied saying I had driven a truck before. Why lie about that stuff? Why not? The rental lady encouraged us to buy extra insurance and gave us a big speech about how expensive the trucks are to repair. Blah blah blah.

I got in the driver seat and realised all of the gears were around the wrong way, yep that was going to make it easier.
After my first drive to the storage facility, where Justin and I convulsed with laughter the whole time I sort of got the hang of it…….sort of.
Justin kept saying,

“Look at little Leish driving the big truck…I can’t believe it!….wide turn now hon, don’t hit the ….oh curb, too late doesn’t matter well done you!”

We loaded up all of my stuff and then headed to Justin’s house to do the same. We decided to park out the front of his joint so we wouldn’t have to carry the stuff to far. As I attempted to manoeuvre the vehicle closer to the curb, I managed to hit a telegraph pole, yeah big deal. It made a horrible noise, scraping and scratching along the truck. I thought of the rental lady and her ‘trucks are expensive’ to repair speech. Damn it. We surveyed the damage. A chunk of metal from the roof the size of my hand had come off and there was a big scratch along the side. A street sign unhinging was also involved.

“We can just stick it back on, it will be ok….”

A lame attempt of convincing from Aleisha.

Justin, the dodgy crooked pole and the sign.

After loading all of Justin’s gear we headed to our new place where I then proceeded to attempt to drive down a narrow driveway and sideswiped our letterbox. The damage this time was a lot worse than the chunk of metal and the scratch. A big gouge and the reflector came off.
Fuck it.

We unloaded the gear and then with the help of Justin’s lovely brother and some industrial glue went about trying to stick the truck back together. It sort of looked ok by the time we were ready to return the truck, the glue seemed to be holding but the big letterbox scratch was fairly obvious. We tried to buff it out but to no avail.

A bit of the letterbox was on the ground so I did the mature and responsible thing and kicked it behind some bins.

Before getting back to the depot I had to fuel it up with Diesel. I couldn’t get the cap off. I stood talking to it, yelling until a lovely guy came along and showed me that I had to unlock the cap with a key. What a doofus.

While driving I decided that I would take the dishonest path and not draw attention to any of the damage that I had caused to the vehicle.

As the dude inspected the truck I played the bimbette, distracting him with my amazingly stupid story of the fuel cap. I danced around like a fool, giggling and going on and on. I felt like an idiot but I think he just wanted to get rid of me. He handed me a piece of paper and told me to see the woman at the front desk.
After reading the piece of paper she said,

“Oh no! Oh dear…”

My heart stopped. I took a deep breath and prepared myself and my credit card for the damage bill.

“You’ve gone one kilometer over your limit….don’t worry though I will pull a sneaky and I won’t charge you!” she said in mock kindness.

Thank Christ. I laughed almost psychotically, too much at her generous gesture and I kept watching the door in case truck inspection man had discovered my handy glue work and was coming to send me to jail.

I left the place very quickly making a mental note to never hire from them….just in case. Poor sucker who gets the truck next time. It will probably just fall apart.

When I got home I pretended to Justin that we got a $450 bill. He looked shattered. It was funny. Sorry Jus.

One other silly thing I did yesterday. When we left the storage place where all my stuff was I said to Justin.

“I am so glad we are out of here, that place stinks like trash, pheeewwie,”

When we got to our new place, I noticed the smell again,

“Shit, maybe the smell has clung to all of my possessions, like the Seinfeld episode with the BO in the car,”

Turns out I had left butter and cheese in the fridge. We opened the door and gagged. The smell was horrendous. Damn you little cheese area with the door. …damn you. After bleach and airing it doesn’t smell too bad now, Justin looked disgusted.

Our place is cool. I am happy there. Justin has great furniture and I have lots of wardrobe space and mirrored robes…hope they come in handy.

*If anyone from the rental truck company reads this….it is all made up…. obviously….ha ha… nervous laugh.

**Also I have been boasting to former flat mate Mick that I am going to beat him in a wide range of PS3 games. I am nervous and may eat my words.