I helped an acquaintance move the other day. Not sure that I’d call him a friend, but he’s someone from the neighborhood whom I know well enough that I responded “Sure” when he called to ask if I would help him move some boxes and furniture.
“Just the two of us?” I’d asked on the phone.
“I’ll call a few others” he’d said.
He lives on the fifth floor of a walk-up and was moving livingroom furniture and books into an unoccupied apartment on the ground floor while his own apartment was undergoing major renovation. When he opened the door I was surprised to see that no one else was there. I asked when the others would arrive.
“I don’t have any friends,” he said half-jokingly. The other half was an earnest smile that let me know it was true.
“No one has friends at times like this,” I reassured him.
He seemed to appreciate that. We got to work, just the two of us. It wasn’t too bad—six or seven trips up and down the stairs and just one difficult moment trying to fit a couch through the door.
My back and groin were sore the next day. But it was worth it. I now have someone to call the day I move.
(c) 2008, Gary Lee Kraut