Listening To: Endtroducing : DJ Shadow

Current Horn Factor :

Horn Factor = A tad toey ...

Quote of The Day

ooze take a hot swedish chick from behind, bend over to her ear.
ooze and whisper “i have aids”, then try to keep your penis inside of her.
ooze thats swedish rodeo

What did you guys get up to on the long weekend ? IG and myself moved house. Two words – fucking nightmare !

It should have been easy – we were only moving 5 minutes down the road from Bondi to Woohlarra. True, there was an additional step at the start of the move which involved picking up a small amount of furniture from my self-storage unit in Castle Hill first (near my parents house), but this should have been no hassle for the removalists. I’d used them before, to move from the apartment I’d been sharing with the fat Wiccan chick and her two cats in Artarmon to Bondi. I’d been more than happy with their service on that occassion, which is why I decided to go with them again this time around.

Now, I had to extract the furniture they would be required to pick up from Castle Hill out of the storage unit and get everything else back before they arrived, so I got there two hours earlier to give myself enough time to achieve this task. Therefore I was definitely not impressed when their receptionist rang me a little later to say that the truck would be anywhere between two to two and a half hours late. Sure enough, an hour after the original designated arrival time (and 3 hours after I’d arrived on the scene, for those playing at home) they still hadn’t shown up, so I gave their office a call and got the receptionist to concede to giving me an hours worth of their time at no charge.

Two and a half hours after the truck had been scheduled to arrive (i.e. 4 1/2 hours of my life wasted waiting around at a storage depot) they finally turn up. They take a look at the pile of furniture I’ve managed to drag out of the storage unit. “Is not too much. How many floor at destination ?” they ask me. I’m not entirely sure, having only been to our new place a handfull of times prior to that morning. “Umm, I think it’s 5 flights of stairs” I hazard a guess. “Fifth floor withou a lift ? You fukkin kidding me, right ?” says the driver. “No, there’s no lift. I think it’s the fifth floor, yeah. It’s up the top” I reply. “There an extra charge for that” he tells me. “Ok fair enough. Look, Jack (their receptionist) was telling me I get an hour free since you guys are more than two hours late. I don’t want to pay any extra charge just because you have to walk a few flights of stairs. So how about we forget the free hour and I pay you for all your time, but you waive the ‘extra stairs charge’ ?” I offer. Unfortunately, this is where the situation completely breaks down.

The removalists start bitching about the free hour, even though I’ve just wasted 4 1/2 hours of my freakin’ time waiting for them to show up. They say Jack should never have offerred it, and it doesn’t matter that they’re late. They bitch about the stairs. They get on the phone to their boss and speak in Chinese. Their boss gets on the phone to me and tries to make me feel bad because I didn’t tell them it was going to be five flights of stairs when I made the booking. I point out to him that it’s not my fault, because he didn’t bother to ask me how high it was when I made the booking with him. He says he’ll speak to Jack and hangs up on me. Then he calls them again. They bitch some more.

Then the fucktards come over to me and tell me “so sorry mate, but we no do the job. You get someone else, uh ? Pay extra maybe, but you get someone else. We no do”.

Well sodomise me with a cricket post and call me Warney ! It’s 3 o’clock on a Saturday afternoon, on a long weekend with not one but two football code grandfinals (AFL & NRL) looming … these little lotus-eating Chinese pricks know my chances of finding replacement removalists on such short notice are virtually nil, never mind the expense I would have to foot if I did actually manage to convice someone else to take the job. I just want to plunge red-hot BBQ tongs into the drivers eyeballs until they enter his brain, and dangle his offsider naked and smeared with pig’s blood over a pool of hungry freshwater crocs (true Aussie style torture in keeping with the spirit of the weekend) – but I keep my outward calm and tell them “no, look … that’s fine. Shit happens buddy”. Consumer affairs and the blogosphere will be hearing about this – no point in getting into a blue when I still have to figure out a way to move all our stuff today, and I’ve got maybe 3 hours of daylight left.

Anyhow, to cut a long story short, I ended up hiring a ute from Kennards and moving all the furniture myself with the help of my mate G and his girlfriend C. Turns out I was wrong about our new building too … there are 6 flights of stairs, but it’s only 3 floors (two flights a floor). Basically, those removalists belong on the Chinese Womens Olympic Swim Team, because they’re big bloody girls !!! If a puny specimen like me (and my mate G, who’s ex-army and built like a brick shithouse … but the point is he was the only one even remotely equipped for shifting furniture) can get everything loaded up on the ute on his own (the first trip) and up those stairs with help (the first and 2 subsequent trips), then the non-effort by A2A Removals is just piss-weak.

Let that be a lesson to you gang, and pass this word around – NEVER EVER USE A2A REMOVALS WHEN YOU’RE MOVING HOUSE – THEY ARE LIKELY TO PISS YOU AROUND, DEMAND MORE MONEY THAN ORIGINALLY AGREED, AND POTENTIALLY LEAVE YOU COMPLETELY HIGH-AND-DRY, MEANING YOU HAVE TO END UP MOVING EVERYTHING YOURSELF.

 And they’re big nancy girls too ! :-)