Karma

I'm a huge believer in karma. I guess I better be, or the tattoo on my wrist actually says I like small boys and in that case, I'm in some serious trouble. I mean, I also believe in God, but what else allows you to control your own destiny by what you put out into the universe? Good or bad it's out there, and most of the time, it can be a bitch. I guess I must have pissed the universe off something fierce because it came after me yesterday. Let's start with the movers. To begin this story I must start off with our history of one another. Eight months ago I found these movers on Craigs list who were the cheapest rate I've ever seen. I was a little hesitant to call them at first, but got over that fear when I knew that my cousin and her boyfriend would be there in the event that they showed up with a big white van and wanted me to help them move the couch into the back of it. These guys had moved me from my third story apartment into my house in under two hours. It was kind of amazing. So, of course I was going to recommend them to anyone that asked if I knew of any good local movers. Well, upon my finalizing my plans to leave the great state of North Carolina, I called upon these movers again. I originally called when I set my move dated and they immediately called back and confirmed. I called again last week to make sure they had the address and that we were ready to go. Again, owner Johnny called me back and confirmed that everything was on for 2 pm Sunday the 8th. Upon a conversation I had with Erin, who I recommended these movers to for her move the week before, she informed me that they were done so early with the move before hers that they showed up an hour and a half early. I was pumped at the possibilities. So I woke up around 10, did the last load of laundry so that I could unhook the washer and dryer upon their arrival. Noon came and went. No problem, sometimes moves on the weekends take a little longer. Plus it's hot and I'm sure they needed rest. As the 2 o'clock hour was approaching I was finally done getting everything together for the guys so all I had to do was sit and wait....and sit and wait....and sit and wait. At 2:30 I finally call Johnny to find out what was going on.
ME: Hey Johnny, this is Katherine Galanty, um, I was wondering if your movers were falling a little behind. They were supposed to be here at 2.
JOHNNY: Hold on let me get the book.
Please note that Hold on did not mean that I was put on hold or mute or anything that would require me not to hear the next part.
JOHNNY: (off mic but still listenable) Oh shit..... hello mam. Yeah, I remember talking to you, but I completely forgot to put you down in the schedule.
ME: I'm sorry, what? What does that mean exactly?
JOHNNY: I'm going to send someone out to you in the next 30-45 minutes.
ME: Fine.
So, as I wait, I sit and wonder how long this trip back to NoVa is actually going to take me. At 2:55 my phone rings again
JOHNNY: Yes mam, it's Johnny again, we're about 20 minutes away from your house. Did I need to bring a hand truck or a third guy?
ME: You could bring both if you wanted, but you're going to need the hand truck.
While we're in this intermission, let me explain to you where these guys were coming from. You know how they say that in LA you can get anywhere in 20 minutes? Yeah, we're not in LA, however the drive should have only taken 20 minutes, tops. At 3:50 I still had not heard from them, so I call him. No answer! At 4:12 they finally show up and Johnny wants to talk to me about everything that has been going on all week and how he could possibly forget this. Less talky more worky Johnny. Everyone has shit they have to deal with, you have one job AND you called back to confirm. So, after an hour and 14 minutes, yes I timed them, I am faced with a total 2 hour charge for them forgetting the move all together, then being 2 hours late, and I recommended you to someone else. Needless to say, I was a little irritated. And I wish this was the end of my story, but alas it is not. With the family truckster fully loaded, I pack the pooch in last and with a quick Spackle driveby we are on our way. I would tell the cigar portion of the story, but that's just a minor irritant in the whole nightmare which was yesterday. We are cruising along. Making really good time and I'm thinking that we might actually make it home by 11. Until we hit Petersburgh. To those of you who haven't made the drive to the DC area along 85, Petersburgh is the point in which 85 meets 95 and you know you are almost there. Unless you are hit with a bevy of tail lights that halt your forward progress. Luckily, I've taken this road enough and both my sister and brother have spent time in this area, so I know some shortcuts. I take one and it works. I'm back on 95 and using the cruise control once again. About 12 miles outside of Fredericksburg I am smacked in the face once again by a sea of red. This time there were no warning signs or arrows or flashing lights to indicate a construction scene. Just red tail lights. So we sit....For an hour and a half.....And only go 2 miles. My phone is dying, I'm tired of sitting down, and Princess Buttercup next to me is antsy. Oh, and now it's 11 pm. As I look around me, because if you thought the mall was good people watching, try being stuck in traffic for an hour and a half, I discover a bumper sticker on the car to my left. "My inner child is a mean little flicker". I'm like, what in the world is a flicker? Upon closer inspection, the li is really a u and the following thoughts are flooded into my head. 1. I would have loved to be in that pitch meeting when that creative genius came to the table with that saying. I bet this guy thought he was going to be the next "Don't worry be happy" or "I believe in whirled peas". He was going to make millions off this saying. They would be on every t-shirt, key chain and bumper sticker lining the Jersey Shore. 2. As a consumer of this bumper sticker, did you take into account that you just spent your hard earned paycheck or allowance money on this piece of garbage. If you were to breakdown how long it took you to earn that bumper sticker, would you have bought it? Wouldn't it have been just as affected to take those two dollar bills and light them on fire? 3. Hey, dumbass, next time you get a bumper sticker, might want to put it on your bumper OR your window. Placing it on the actual car is going to be impossible to take off. So, if and when you decide to get rid of that lovely piece of machinery that you're driving around, you are going to have to figure out a way to get that work of art off it. 4. When is it okay to cuss on a bumper sticker? I mean, you can't cuss on TV before 9 pm, you can't watch porn on your portable DVD players in your cars, so why is it okay to be that tacky on your car? And please don't play the freedom of speech card because it wasn't your actual saying. Someone else wrote it, God forbid. Is it really necessary to create that bumper sticker, buy that bumper sticker and display it? Aren't there other ways to let people know about your inner child. Something tells me that upon meeting you one would figure it out right away. Oh and side note, guy riding around with the Calvin peeing on the Chevy symbol, 1992 called and they want Calvin back. Yes, this is actually how I spent the entire hour and a half. So, I would like to send a letter to VDOT, thanking them for all of this entertainment, but I'm not sure it's appropriate. I thought I would let you all see what I was going to send first.
Dear Virginia Department of Transportation,
Upon deciding to close 2 of your 3 lanes of traffic for construction, please make sure that your state workers are not just standing around in circle jerk formation trying to decide whether they need to lean left or reach right. I mean, there was a guy PUSHING his broken down car that was moving faster than I was.
In the event of this happening to me again, I promise you that I am going to hit one of your workers with my car and have a clean conscience about it. I would not intend to kill him, but to at least have someone doing something other than standing around laughing at all the people driving their cars.
Sincerely,
Micheale
I figured if I signed it as one of the DC housewives, I might get away with it. True story though, there was a guy pushing his car faster than I was driving. I felt awful for him and if I had the ability to get into my trunk, I would have helped the guy out.
In closing, I would like to apologize to you, universe, for obviously pissing off YOUR inner child. The next time that someone decides to drink a beer, in my house in record setting time, I will recycle it instead of throwing it in the trash because it was convenient.