When I was moving in on Tuesday, a woman from up the road came into my house and asked if she could have my boxes when IÂ’d finished with them. SheÂ’s moving in July and obviously thought that she could save herself some time and/or money by having my used boxes.
I said that would be fine, but the removal man boss said that was all well and good but they were HIS boxes. Apparently the money I was paying him for them was just a rental thing (not that he’d mentioned that). He said he’d already explained this to the woman twice outside, but she didn’t seem to want to listen. He said he would sell the woman the boxes for a pound a box (he claimed they cost £2.50, by this stage I realised he was probably chancing it all the way down the line, but it didn’t make any difference to me. He was welcome to have his boxes back as I would just have thrown them away).
The woman seemed confused by the proposition and the removal guy asked me if I wanted to sort this out with her, or should he give her his phone number. I didnÂ’t want to deal with this slightly box obsessed and deaf to the box-truth woman, so he gave her his mobile number and she left.
The man knew that I was busy and wasn’t planning to unpack properly for a few weeks until all my work is done. He said, “Whenever you’re unpacked, give us a ring and I’ll come and pick them up… unless she ends up buying them.” We both thought this was unlikely
Today as I was coming back from the shops, she came hurtling towards me. “So, can I have those boxes?” she asked. I explained again that she’d have to ring the bloke and sort it out with him and that it would cost her about sixty pounds.
“Sixty pounds,” she repeated incredulously as if this was the first time.
I could already see that this conversation might become a daily event, so I said a little impatiently, “Yeah, so there’s no point in talking to me about it, you’ll have to ring him.”
“OK,” she said, “And when will you have unpacked?”
She was trying to push me into unpacking quickly so she could have my boxes. But itÂ’s not my problem that she doesnÂ’t have boxes. They are my boxes, until they are unpacked, when they become the removal manÂ’s boxes.
I told her it would be several weeks and she looked disappointed. Like IÂ’d borrowed the boxes off her and was now refusing to give them back.
I can see the boxes are going to become albatrosses around my neck.
At least sheÂ’s moving soonÂ…. Provided she can find some boxes.
