Unfortunately life in KC this last week hasn't been as entertaining as one would have hoped, my stories are fairly boring but I trust that I'll get into some trouble soon!
I got to KC at about 9PM on Tuesday after what felt like a ridiculously long drive only to discover that in order to move things from my car up to my apartment Maureen and I had to haul my stuff across the building, up to the second floor (read "elevator"), down a short hallway, and down a long hallway. Doesn't sound like much, except that we made the trip no less than 8 times before being confronted with the heaviest object in this load....the TV. Since I live in a fairly ghetto part of KC (think bad side of South Bend with more people loitering and walking around), we decided leaving it in the car overnight was probably a bad call.
I was all ready to use my muscles to take the TV up myself, except Maureen had a better idea. There's a pizza restaurant right by the apartment so we walked on over to ask if they had a dolly we could borrow. I let Maureen do the talking because frankly she's better at talking men into doing things for us, I think its the patented hair flip. Maureen walks up to a guy (enter Pizza Boy) and asks if they have a dolly we can use. Pizza Boy's looks at Maureen, asks his managers if they need him for ten minutes, and then tells us he'll move it for us! Go Maureen! Since then we have been having a lively debate as to how old Pizza Boy is. I say 19, Maureen says he's definitely over 21 most likely 22 or 23. My response to Maureen: Cougar.*
*This is fair payback as Maureen has been calling me a Cougar since I moved in as I am the oldest person living in this complex. In fact I think I'm older than the people running the leasing office and ever once in a while when they give me guff I am tempted to say "Children! Listen up!" I believe I have begun to channel Emily "the Enforcer" Follas.
And in typical fashion, Pizza Boy moved my TV in....and then he went home.
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