Single (At Home) At Last!

The Fabulously Gay Roommate bought a house. He and his significant other are going to live there. Saturday was the big move out day. If you're helping someone move it is never easy and yesterday proved to be no different. FGR and I have many mutual friends from school. Sadly all of them were unavailable for the move. That meant most all of the other people helping with the move were FGR's friends that he met when was exploring and understanding his sexuality aka the gay friends.

There were mechanics, IT managers, artists, nurses, and just ordinary people regardless of their sexual orientation. For purposes of a move they just need to be able to lift and carry heavy objects. For this, the gay friends failed miserably. Except for the one friend who wasn't overtly flaming, the rest all had bad backs, bulging disks, strained back muscles, needed a cigarette every 20 minutes, had the ability to snip and gossip worse than a 8th grade cheerleader and whatever it took to be friggin' useless for a moving day. Except for the one guy, the rest of them couldn't lift anything heavy. Oh yeah, even my roommate was having muscle problems too.

This was going to suck for me in so many ways.

I arrived a bit late at the storage facility that held all of the Sig Other's stuff and I knew things weren't going well. For whatever reason, whenever there is a group of people over a certain size no one can make a decision. It's called diffusion of responsibility. Combined with the fact the FGR is notorious for being incapable of making decisions this is a bad double whammy. Towards the end I asked him if I should get my truck to put in the last of the big bulky items. I quickly realized I needed to simply get my truck and put the last few chairs and end tables in the bed. I was proven right as some things weren't going to fit in the U-Haul.

At FGR's new house the bad back brigade was nearly useless. I'm shoving stuff out of the truck or the other guy was and I was placing the items in the lawn or on the porch. Time was limited and I figured everyone else could carry stuff from the lawn to inside the house. FGR wanted to put stuff in the right room. He's nuts! He's not sure where he'll want half that stuff. Just get it inside and you'll deal with it later. I felt the need to harm someone as the bad back brigade went on a cigarette break...all the time. I think they smoked and gossiped more than they moved boxes!

All that labor, totally useless to the task.

They weren't much better when they came to my place to get FGR's stuff. Luckily he didn't have as much crap as his Sig Other. Seriously, they need a few trips to Goodwill and a few garage sales. I think they have a total of 6 televisions now. Once again FGR's couch drew blood. Whenever it is moved there is blood involved. Must be a voodoo couch. At least it wasn't my blood this time.

Wow this place is going to be quiet.