Weighing the pros and cons of boning the fucker next door.
“Love your neighbor…” — Leviticus 19:18
“Be careful what you wish for…” — Aesop
Aside from that annual proctology exam or Pap smear, moving is arguably the most heinously uncomfortable situation that any person, sane or otherwise, can possibly endure. There’s dropping a hefty deposit on the new apartment, as well as first and last month’s rent. Then there’s the process of packing up your belongings, switching over the utilities to a new address and the ever-so-grueling nature of the move itself. All told, the process of relocating, even if it’s just down the street, sucks a whole lot worse than anything involving a rubber glove.
Moving is also when a person truly learns who their friends are, that’s for sure. Anyone who’s ever ended up with part of their intestines dragging on the sidewalk after trying to lug a couch up a flight of stairs by themselves can attest to that. Everyone’s always busy when there’s heavy stuff to move, so it is often necessary, for the sake of preventing a weapons-grade hernia, to bid farewell to those lousy bums and make some friends from the new neighborhood. If you’re lucky, not only will they assist you with some boxes, but they might even be willing to help you unpack the one load that everyone needs to unburden themselves of the most.
