How to Move Sucessfully: Shakira and Big Guy-Style

Big Guy starts barking orders immediately Saturday morning. I'm still hungover from shutting down Jimmy's Irish Lair the night before at Shakira's Bon Voyage Bash.

"Huh?" I ask, facedown in the pillow.

"Call a cab-we left the car downtown last night," Big Guy tells me. He's already up and dressed.

"Oh yeah. Now I remember."

Big Guy says we need to find a truck, drive to his storage space, load the truck, bring it back to my place, unload it and then load it into the truck we rented for the next day. All I'm capable of comprehending is that my job is to brush my teeth, get dressed and call the cab.

It turns out we're moving on the most popular moving weekend of the year. There are no U-Haul trucks in town, and we can't get our truck a day early. Plus, Big Guy's storage space has moved to Round Rock. He has a window from 1-3 p.m. to retrieve his stuff. We find his sister-in-law working at Shady Grove, borrow her 4Runner, leave my car there for her to drive home, and go to U-Haul to rent a trailer.

Big Guy can't stand driving a trailer. And we have no idea where we're going. After two wrong turns, we find the storage space. We go inside and find a guy driving a forklift around what seems like pointless circles.

"Go around to the front," he grunts at us.

We get back in the 4Runner with trailer, drive around to the front and find Storage Space Sue.

"Have you been around back?" she asks.

We groan. Back out in the 95-degree heat, we drive around to the back of the warehouse. Storage Space Sue shows us Big Guy's box. It's kind of creepy in there-people's lives packed into these boxes. Kind of like coffins for stuff instead of people. Ewww.

Big Guy walks up to the box, takes hold of the Masterlock and bows his head, muttering softly, "Shit."

"What?" I ask.

"The key to the lock. The key to the lock is at your house."

Big Guy looks like he's going to cry. Storage Space Sue shrugs. "Our bolt cutters are on order-they won't be here till next week. But you can go across the street to Home Depot."

Back into the heat. Back into the 4Runner towing a trailer that makes Big Guy nervous. Across the highway. Purchase bolt cutters. Return to lot. Big Guy's box has been removed from the warehouse and is waiting for us in the parking lot. Big Guy lights up a cigarette in preparation for his Feat of Strength.

The lock doesn't budge.

Finally we cut the hasp the lock is attached to, load his stuff into the trailer and take off. I'm blinking sweat out of my eyes. Definitely NOT gorgeous and sassy.

We unload his belongings into his brother's garage, return the trailer to U-Haul and go back to my place. The next morning, he's making plans again, charting out our day.

"Dammit, when did you become a planner?" I grumble, trying to go back to sleep.

We find the U-Haul, again in Round Rock, get the truck and head to his brother's house to load his stuff again. This would be the third loading/unloading we've done. We get back to my place and load everything from my apartment. It seems I've grossly miscalated how many boxes I'll need for shoes and I have to use the last box for them. Everything else gets thrown haphazardly into the back of the truck.

We are so pleased with ourselves we lock up the apartment and head to Mom's house for dinner and drinks. Halfway down Mopac I get a phone call.

"The truck's overheating; I'm pulling off the road," Big Guy tells me.

I turn around, find the spot where he's pulled over and survey the damage.

"That truck is broken-I guarantee you," I declare. We sit at a picnic table under the trees and wait for the mechanic.

The mechanic agrees with me. "You blew an engine on a power stroke diesel! We'll have to tow it back to U-Haul tonight and get you a new truck in the morning."

Shower. Dinner. Drinks. Stat.

In the morning, we perform our sixth loading/unloading task, as we transfer everything from one truck to the other. We're delirious with hangover, no sleep and running on pure caffeine. And we haven't even gotten on the road yet.

Moral of the story: I don't care what it costs. It's much more gorgeous and sassy to hire a mover.