Irv's latest reminded me of some stories...(Thanks Irv!)
Lady wants the piano in a back room down the hall past a 90 degree turn. No problem,just put it on end & turn it 90 degrees.....EEEYYYYYAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!! "YOU'RE DESTROYING MY PIANO!!!!!!!!!"
"No ma'am,it doesn't hurt it,this is standard..." "EEEEYYYYYYAAAAUUUUGGGGHHHH!!!!!! YOU'RE HURTING IT!!!! I'M CALLING YOUR BOSS!!!!!"
please do,I don't care,as long as you stop screaming at me,geez....
"Oh good,you're here" said the obviously self-important women "You need to move the sofa over there & the chair there,since the piano'll take up so much room,I also need the dining table moved,I'm having people over to see the new piano"
*Ma'am,I'm not authorized to do anything but deliver your piano,I'm not re-arranging your living room for you"
"You impertinent little...I'll call your boss"
Which she did & my boss said "Sure,pay him $XX an hour" (waaaay above min. wage at the time
)
Some deliveries were fun: I get to the builder's house & it's as nice as I expect,2 story (can't build higher there) with an indoor pool right in the main area of the house,I'm tellin' ya,nice! In that area is the music loft,accessible only by a spiral staircase,not an ideal way to get a piano,even a cheap-ass Kimball spinet,up there. That's OK though,he's got 2-3 steps of scaffolding set up & his workers are gonna come & lift it up onto the loft. So he starts callng them.
And calling.....calling....calling.....
Meanwhile,between futile calls to "Come help lift this fucker!!!" he's given me 3-4 beers & a huge sandwich,also a shot of some very expensive scotch-which at 20 I know nothing about but damn it tastes good
I ended up leaving the piano there,but he still tipped me handsomely.
Lady wants the piano in a back room down the hall past a 90 degree turn. No problem,just put it on end & turn it 90 degrees.....EEEYYYYYAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!! "YOU'RE DESTROYING MY PIANO!!!!!!!!!"
"No ma'am,it doesn't hurt it,this is standard..." "EEEEYYYYYYAAAAUUUUGGGGHHHH!!!!!! YOU'RE HURTING IT!!!! I'M CALLING YOUR BOSS!!!!!"
please do,I don't care,as long as you stop screaming at me,geez....
"Oh good,you're here" said the obviously self-important women "You need to move the sofa over there & the chair there,since the piano'll take up so much room,I also need the dining table moved,I'm having people over to see the new piano"
*Ma'am,I'm not authorized to do anything but deliver your piano,I'm not re-arranging your living room for you"
"You impertinent little...I'll call your boss"
Which she did & my boss said "Sure,pay him $XX an hour" (waaaay above min. wage at the time

Some deliveries were fun: I get to the builder's house & it's as nice as I expect,2 story (can't build higher there) with an indoor pool right in the main area of the house,I'm tellin' ya,nice! In that area is the music loft,accessible only by a spiral staircase,not an ideal way to get a piano,even a cheap-ass Kimball spinet,up there. That's OK though,he's got 2-3 steps of scaffolding set up & his workers are gonna come & lift it up onto the loft. So he starts callng them.
And calling.....calling....calling.....
Meanwhile,between futile calls to "Come help lift this fucker!!!" he's given me 3-4 beers & a huge sandwich,also a shot of some very expensive scotch-which at 20 I know nothing about but damn it tastes good

I ended up leaving the piano there,but he still tipped me handsomely.
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