26 length of truck, in feet, that we were suddenly upgraded to by the ever-trusty UHaul folks
3 number of large silverfish that scattered when we picked up the bedframe (trust me - this is far fewer than I imagined)
1 number of times the cat, upset that it had been banished to P's old room while we and M trudged up and down the stairs moving, threw up on my suitcase in protest
2 number of times that our *trashy**trashy* neighbors have been heard yelling, in response to their child crying, SHUT THE FUCK UP I DON'T GIVE A FUCK WHAT YOU WANT
6 age of their child, approximately
10 number of times, today, I have fantasized throwing a cinder block through their car windshield in response to this outstanding display of parenting
4 number of bottles of Molson chilling in the fridge, rescued from the depths of my closet, originally bestowed upon me by Suz and Rob in October 2004
7 packages of various meats, including a whole chicken, all frozen and bearing expiration dates of 2003, that I am leaving in the chest freezer for the next tenants because they were here when I moved in
70 percent sure I am that I really want to steal the little kitchen table for our new little kitchen because a) it is a perfect size for two and b) it reminds me of all the good times I had sitting at the kitchen window, working the crossword with the B, eating pancakes with the AV, finishing my thesis, and gazing out onto the backyard at that perfect time of day, when the afternoon light hits the backyard just right and if you squint everything looks lush and green and really not all that crappy
30 percent feelings of guilt for blatantly stealing from Landlord
100 percent of you reading that should just tell me what to do
1 days left until we leave Highland
jen and i have decided that in protest of our newfound inability to smoke cigarettes on the shitty patio of your soon-to-be "last known residence," we're more than likely going to stumble in somenight after painting our path from mcgoffs to that house and smoke there anyway. i can imagine the conversation between us and the newfound tenants will go something like this:
ReplyDeleteJ&J: "That's fine that we don't have permission to be here. the place isn't yours and we don't hear you trying to describe the previous color of the living room, or the siding for that matter."
Nwfndtn: "Please leave."
J&J: "Once we finish both of these packs. you're more than welcome to join us so that we can weaze someplace else sooner."
wuv you.
J.
postscript. TAKE THE FUCKING TABLE.
Well, it's your last day and we didn't get to hang out in the cities and smoke the way we planned we would when I came back. I'll just have to plan a trip to visit you guys some weekend and bring my trusty pipe.
ReplyDeleteDon't take the table, it may have an anti-removal spell on it that results in bad karma.
Oh, and PLEASE call child protective services on your neighbors.
ReplyDeleteThank you. :)
Take the table, bitch.
ReplyDeleteyou aren't stealing from the landlord. you are relieving him of the furniture that another tenant LEFT in that house.
Need I remind you, it's not SUPPOSED to be semi-furnished, as in "let's buy some nice things for our tenants, in case they don't have furniture" but as in "wow, look at all the shit everybody leaves here."
It's not his. It's not anybody's. Well, now it's yours. And it's seriously worth $3. Leave three bucks on the counter, and you'll be even!
I want vegan pancakes. Happy moving today. I will miss you, as a Minnesotan. I will miss Highland and the kitchen window. : (
Wisconsin is lucky to have you!
ReplyDeleteAnd take the table--if any "complications" occur, just plead ignorance: "What? I thought that was my table..."
Or just say (and this is in the extremely unlikely situation that your landlord tracks you down because of his missing table), "Jean said I could."
That last one would work because the landlord doesn't know who "Jean" is!
ReplyDeleteI sure hope you took the table with you. I'd say that at the very least, you've earned it.
ReplyDelete