Tag Archives: Self Storage

We Still Can’t Find The Shoes….Continued.

The staging area. See any boxes in there labeled "shoes?"

I needed to get the LG over to the “interim” storage unit.  The new “staging” area where I was moving all the stuff from the house, which I had to vacate by August 31st, in preparation for loading it again for resettlement in New Mexico.  I didn’t think I would be able to get it into the back of my pick-up truck.  It would fit okay, but it would take four or five people to lift it, I figured, and I couldn’t conjure up four or five people at one time who would be willing to help.  We macho men tend to think we have more strength than we do, which is a grave miscalculation that would inevitably come into play.

So I remembered that a friend of mine had a motorcycle trailer.  We could load the LG on the trailer and tie it down for the short drive to the storage place.  Shannon and Chad agreed to help the weekend before I had to be out of the house.  We bartered some furniture in exchange for the use of the trailer and extra “man”power, but I’m sure they would have helped anyway.  I chose not to put Charlie in harm’s way for this particular maneuver, which was probably a good thing, because we might have come up with the idea of having him ride on the trailer to hold the refrigerator upright.

The LG went up the ramp on the motorcycle trailer with little effort.  We then proceeded to tie it down with every available rope, tie-down, and bungee cord we could find.  This trailer is a flat-bed with no walls, so it just stood there, proudly, like it was tied to a stake.  We went about two blocks when I noticed, in the side-view mirror, that the LG was rocking from side to side.  We pulled over and I tightened up its restraints and we continued on.  We had about five miles to negotiate in traffic, with several left turns, but Chad was driving very carefully.  We were getting a lot of one-finger salutes and curse words floating through the air as cars and trucks whizzed by us.  I couldn’t look in the side-view mirror anymore.

“If it falls over, Chad,” I said, “just keep driving.”  He nodded affirmatively.

We pulled into the storage unit and unloaded the LG without further incident.  Here it would remain for another month.

The LG had now been moved twice, and we were into Plan C.  This was going to involve renting the U-Haul truck to load the refrigerator which would stand up in the truck, the truck had a ramp, and I was going to rent an appliance dolly which has longer handles so my arms did not have to become part of the moving device.  I had it all arranged for September 1st.  You should by now, know what happened to Plan C.  The storage yard refused to give me the extra day to move the LG without charging me for the full month.  https://whatthefluffy.wordpress.com/2011/08/29/i-told-her-i-was-going-to-tell-everyone-i-knew/

So we had no choice but to move the LG again.  This time, my friend, Danny, convinced me that we could load the refrigerator into the back of my pick-up.  Just the two of us and a hand truck.  I was desperate.  We had been drinking.  “Piece of cake,” Danny kept repeating.  I now have arms two inches longer than I had before the move started.  As we pulled and lifted the LG into the back of the truck, it started to tilt to the left, hit the sidewall of the truck and put dent number two in the titanium doors.  But we got it in, and with some effort were able to stand it up in the bed of truck and lash it down with ratchet tie-downs and bungees.  Our destination was twenty-some miles away to Danny’s garage.  We pulled in an hour from the time we had started out.  We sat there staring at the LG, pretty sure that we were not going to able to lower the heavy box down to the driveway without some help.

Right about that time, someone they knew from down the street, drove by.   They yelled out to him and he stopped.  He was a big dude.  So we decided with him and Danny on the ground and me up in the bed holding the hand truck, we could lower the LG safely to the ground.  Lets just say it didn’t go as easy as it was envisioned.  That thing weighs a lot.  But we got it to the ground without any further damage, except to my arms, which now hung limply at my sides.  “Piece of cake,” Danny said for the thousandth time.  We thanked the dude, and made a drink.

I picked up the U-Haul truck the morning of September 1st, at a plant nursery as far south of town as you could get.  I requested a pick-up at the huge U-Haul dealer on South Virginia, but I guess U-Haul spreads the business around.  I had made the reservation on-line the week before.  The truck ran but had not been cleaned and I could barely see out of the windshield.  After negotiating it into the driveway, I called my friend, Roger, who had agreed to come over and help me load the LG into the truck.  Moving the LG had now involved eight different people, not counting myself.

Within a few minutes, the LG was loaded into the U-Haul, and wrapped securely in blankets for the thousand mile trip to Rio Rancho.  I just want to say here, that moving a large appliance is done very easily with an appliance dolly designed specifically for that purpose.

See how those refrigerator magnets hide the dents?

The LG stands proudly now, doing it’s thing, in the new kitchen.  It makes lots of ice for the much-needed drinks.  I marvel sometimes that it is here.  For two and a half months it dominated my thoughts.  I should have sold the damn thing.

Oh, the shoes.  There were two boxes of shoes, my wife’s shoes, dress shoes, boots, lots of shoes.  They vanished somewhere between the house, the storage unit, Danny’s garage, and Rio Rancho, NM.  I know they were loaded at some point.  I know there was nothing left behind after everything was loaded, but the shoes are not here.  The shoes now dominate my thoughts.  I have retraced every step in my mind to no avail.  I can’t remember the two boxes of shoes.  The two boxes have just vanished.  We’ve opened almost every box.  We still can’t find the shoes. 


Filed under Uncategorized

I Told Her I Was Going To Tell Everyone I Knew!

I’m moving to New Mexico.  Yes it’s in the United States, and yes they speak English.  I’m just pointing that out, because when I worked for Mountain Bell back in the day, I would get those two questions a lot when people called in to the Business Office.  That’s what they called it, the “Mountain Bell Business Office.”  I held the distinction, at the time, of being the only male service representative in the state.  I think I was the only male service rep in the entire company, but it was during the time they were trying to get people into “non-traditional jobs,” like putting girls up poles, and putting guys in desk chairs.  It was a whole different “consent decree” world for the Bell System and a few years short of its breakup as a monopoly.  The Consent Decree was signed with the Federal Government to insure that woman and minorities would be hired in a reverse discrimination method that favored woman and minorities, however it also got me my first job when I dropped out of college in 1973.

So, I’m moving, relocating, whatever you want to call it, and I clearly understand that every expense I incur is tax-deductible.  Especially since I am relocating, technically, to find work.  The unemployment rate up here in Nevada is still running in the double digits.  Not a good place to find a job.  New Mexico is a little better, but not great, but my daughters and their families live there, and I lived there for 12 years back in the late 70’s and 80’s.

The move has been a coordination nightmare.  I’ve had to move out of a house, put stuff in a storage unit, make two runs down to New Mexico with a cargo trailer, and I still have a load left.  It was left in a storage unit at “RR Self Storage” (Double R Self Storage) in Reno, Nevada.  I paid for July, and I paid for August.  Ninety-five dollars a month.  Paid up until the 31st of August, but I needed one extra day.  ONE extra day because I was working until the 31st and wasn’t getting the rental truck until September 1st, Thursday.  I didn’t want to pay another $95 for one day.

So I read on the “Notice of Intent to Vacate” that I could notify them “before the 1st” if I needed an extra day or two into the month and they would pro-rate the rent.  They “would be happy to accommodate” this one time request.  In bold letters it says “Partial Rent Will Not Be Refunded.”  And it also explains that if you are not out by the pre-arranged move out day, you will be charged for the full month.  Seemed fair and it was the 26th of August.  Almost a week before the 1st.

So I go into the office with my “Notice of Intent to Vacate” filled in with September 2, 2011 as my last day of occupancy, after I got off work on Friday.  I will have the U-Haul truck on the 1st, and will load it then, but I figure one more day just to be safe.

I hand the form to the rotund (trying to be nice) girl on the other side of the counter, and I had to reach out pretty good because she’s pretty rotund.  And she just says, “Okay” and puts in on the work surface behind the counter.

I says to her, “You’re going to pro-rate those last two days, right?

“Nope,” she says, if you leave on the 2nd you’ll have to pay for the full month.”

I looked at Her Rotundity in surprise.  “It says here that you will be happy to pro-rate the rent if I let you know before the first.”  I leaned over the counter and pointed to the sheet.  I’m not that rotund.

Her Rotundness turns (not a pretty sight) and starts to walk away.  Turns back to me momentarily and says, “If you leave on the 2nd you owe for the full month?”

“Ninety-five dollars for one day,” I scream.  No… I screamed it.

“Yes,” she says.

“That doesn’t seem fair,” was all I could say.  I scooped up the vacate notice and said that I wasn’t moving until the end of September then.

Her Rotundity’s cheery and helpful response, said in a syrupy attempt at customer service, “Sure, why rush.  Take your time.  You have the whole month.”

That’s when the steam blew out the ears and I turned and got out of there before I hurt someone or something.

I sat in my truck down the street and read, and re-read the clause about being happy to pro-rate the rent.  Then I read it again.  It still said to me that if I let them know before the first, they would pro-rate any extra days, but then it said in bold type again, no day to day rent allowed.  Sounded contradictory.  Then it hit me.  I would need to know a month ahead of time when I would be vacating the space for them to be happy to help me and pro-rate the rent.  In other words, I would have had to tell them before August 1st, that I was not leaving until September 2nd.  The clause is written so as to completely confuse the renter, who will almost always think that they are going to pro-rate the rent for them if they tell them before the first of the month that they will only need it for a few more days.

Then I thought, well the rent may be do on the first, but they don’t lock me out until the third, and don’t charge me a late fee until the 5th.  So I could clean the unit out on the first anyway, and let them try to get the $95 out of me.  By the time all the late fees and penalties were added up, I would owe them more like $200 though.  They might go after that.  Plus they didn’t say they had to wait until the third to lock me out, so they could technically do it on the first when rent was due which would put me in a real bind from a coordination standpoint.  And they now knew that I was moving out on the 2nd.

We moved everything out on Saturday.  I had to re-coordinate the move schedule, the help I’m going to need, and I damn near ripped my arm off moving a refrigerator in the back of a pickup.  Which is scary in itself because a refrigerator sticks up pretty high in the bed of a pickup truck.  And every time I move this $2,400 LG Refrigerator, it gets more dents and more scratches.  It’s been a serious thorn in my side, Jesus reference aside.

Saturday, after the last load was in my truck, I pulled into the office of the “Double R Self Storage” at 880 Maestro Drive, Reno, NV 89511, (775) 853-4466.  I crossed off the date, wrote in August 26th, and walked into the office.  I pitched the vacate notice at the same fat lady in the same black outfit sitting in an itty-bitty  black office chair creaking under the strain, and said, “Here, I’m out.”

I looked right at her and said, “Oh, and I wanted to thank you for your understanding and for helping me out.”

She said, “You’re welcome.” 

I said as I turned and walked away, “..and I’m telling everybody I know.”  So now I have.

I’ve got two questions.  Why do fat people always wear black?  Where the FLUFFY did customer service go?  That place made $190 off of me, and I would have told everyone I knew how great they were about pro-rating the last few days of rent to help me out.  Didn’t go down that way though.


Filed under Uncategorized