I moved them all today. I do *not* want to repeat this task anytime soon.
I wanted to start around 11am. But by the time I got all the stuff together, had to wait for the truck rental people, etc etc, it was 11:45.
Start loading games, and the guys that own the garage are standing around. In the way. It's like "hey man, excuse me." "Oh, sorry..." repeat that about six or seven times.
Then there was the guy that decided he wanted to "help". I'm walking up the ramp with the game, I get to the top to weigh my options, and he decides he wants to help me push it in the truck. Of course, he does this without telling me he's doing so. So suddenly I'm being pushed backwards by a force. That guy I gave a mild verbal warning. I mean, he could have killed me by trying to "help".
I started trying to strap the games in. Only one problem...the straps I have won't hook onto the truck supports. Crap!
When it came to the last game (the Pac-Man conversion) it was one that was going to my house instead of to storage. Started up the ramp, but something went wrong. The game took a dump. I managed to save it from completely going kerplonk, and stood it upright.
That's when I heard the sound of tempered glass shattering. Dammit!
The control panel wasn't on this cab, and I'd forgotten. So when it tipped (to the side) it was just enough inertia to pop the glass over the lip and *smash*.
Luckily that was the worst thing to happen. I swept it up, said my goodbyes, and left.
I head to my house, offload one game - mysteriously roughly. "Odd," I think, and head toward my Centipede Mini.
The whole game is leaning heavily towards the right. If I'm not careful I'll dump it - not a game I want to dump! Then I see it - and probably the reason the other game took a dump.
The hand truck I'm using was a standard model, but the previous owner had cobbled on some inflatable bigger wheels for use on stairs. A quite ingenious design. But at some point the bolt holding the wheel assembly on burst thru the metal, rendering it useless - and dangerous. I don't know if I can fix it. Dammit.
Luckily I have another hand truck. But this one is wrought iron, and weighs around 100 pounds (the other is aluminum and weighs next to nothing).
I figure I'll go inside and get a quick glass of water. Except...crap...no keys! I'd left my keys at the garage, inside my jacket. I curse quite a bit, close the truck, and head back to the garage.
I manage to offload the rest of the games at the storage facility in record time. I'm already almost an hour over the time I thought I'd be done (though I did manage to complete the task in the timeframe I thought it would take me, three hours). Go pick up my daughter from the woman that's watching her. I'm running seven minutes late. Seven whole minutes. I get to my house to find my kid (who walks to and from school daily) in practical hysterics. He thought something happened to me. He calmed down quickly, and we went to pick up his brother from preschool.
Got there, and by this time I hadn't had anything to drink, or gone to the bathroom since 10am. I walk in, tell my son and daughter to go to the classroom, and that's when I see my other son, outside the class with his teacher, wrapped in a blanket, crying hysterically.
He'd gotten a fever and a headache sometime around two, and had been quite upset since then. Calmed him down a tiny bit, and got him home.