Yesterday I helped a friend, and fellow graduate student, move. Luckily there were lots of us there. Packing up and moving a four-bedroom house is not a lot of fun, but we managed to keep up enough friendly insults and banter going to keep it interesting. At the end one of the graduate students there related a really funny story about when she moved.
They (she and her dad) were checking out the house, making sure that everything was ready for the next day's big move. One of the neighbors came out to chat--umm...more like grill. From her description I got the picture of a retired ex-relief society president who is used to running to ward and is not willing to allow others the opportunity--especially the bishop. You know the kind, you almost feel the urge to click your heals and salute when she asks you to do something. But anyway...she came out and was asking questions. Who are you?... What do you do?...Where are you moving from?...Are you married/have a boyfriend?...and the like. Before they left she asked if she would like some help moving in. They said yes, thinking that there would be two or three people showing up tomorrow to help.
Tomorrow came, and the entire 41st ward showed up to help. She was so astonished! She said that her dad didn't even have to move a single box. He just stood by the doorway directing traffic. Kind of like the Nextel commercial. She said that after she was all moved in, everyone almost ran away. This is what she thought did it. She was almost 30, unmarried organic chemistry graduate student. And the last box that they unloaded off the truck was labeled "BOOZE YOU BREAK IT YOU DIE."
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