I find the intensity of your prayer pretentious

I helped a friend of mine move out of his apartment over the weekend. Straightforward ordeal if you're going by the book; you can expect to be frustrated, tired, manic and giddy, seemingly exhausted and altogether a little sick. Also, don't expect to get paid when you do anything for your friends unless they're wealthy or sensible.

These were my expectations, the reality was more harrowing.

First of all, my friend is a recent convert of Islam. I don't really have a problem with this, but I was simply flabbergasted to learn that Islam is actually incredibly fucking boring, regimented, sober, dour and altogether a big waste of '6 times a day'.

Nonetheless, my pal needed help and I knew that the gruff types at a moving company would eat him and his mother alive. It was up to me to guide them through this process.

I was altogether pleased to see the end of this apartment. More bad memories than good for me, and it was in one of the more ethnic parts of Toronto. I don't have a problem with that either, but it turns out my friend did, as I will soon reveal...

I'm also going to provide some basic guidelines for any of you young ones who have never had to move in or out of your own place without your parents handling everything.

So first of all, preparations. You're going to want to rent a truck either in person or over the phone. Don't use your hatchback or sedan car or your friend Peebo's El Camino; you want a TRUCK. A pickup truck+trailer is a valid option too but ideally, get a 10 to 14 foot cube van with one of those big 'UHAUL PRESENTS THE OGOPOGO MONSTER' graphics emblazoned on the side. If you're picking this vehicle up from somewhere that isn't explicitly a truck rental depot (for example, a furniture store that's open on the weekend) check the time that store opens, it might contradict the alleged 'availability' of the vehicle as stated online.

Now that you have your transportation ready, it's important to reflect on whether you or anyone you know can actually drive. In my home country, you need at least a level 3/'Full G' license to drive a truck under 15 feet. This requires about two years of preparation thanks to the waiting periods between licensing tiers, so plan ahead or be prepared to dangerously break the law.

Now perhaps you were informed that a dolly/cart and moving boxes would be available to you. This is most likely a filthy, vicious lie: Get your own boxes, either steal them from a grocer like the rat you are or buy some from a storage locker. Remember: cardboard boxes can be gently broken down and fit into other cardboard boxes for ease-of-use.

If you don't own a dolly, you're probably not aware of your own horrific ignorance. That's okay. I can't actually tell you where to buy a dolly anyway, so we're even. I'd suggest a hardware store be where you start looking, or rob a Transport truck full of soda-pop, they definitely have a dolly.

Now that you have your packing material, vehicle and hand-cart, you're almost ready.

If you're bringing in friends and planning to feed them, plan some meals. Wholesome, root-vegetable heavy dinners and light, protein rich breakfasts are the way to go. DO NOT buy any or all of the following to serve as """""Groceries""""" while you're moving:
-Rice Crispy Squares
-Doritos
-Twizzlers
-Soda pop
-Donut Holes
-Chips and Dip
-Fruit by the Foot

If you're a feeble little freak you might find the physically able person working with you disgusted and annoyed with the """""""food""""""" you've chosen, and they might not have the sickly, incapable constitution you do.

Now that you haven't bought crap and you have all your shit lined up, it's time to move.

Try to get everything packed ahead of the moving day; packing takes time and energy. Those boxes you stole are great for books, DVDs, religious chachkies, office supplies, clothes, and basically everything that isn't furniture. Seriously, pack as far ahead as possible. Don't start smoking weed with your mom and packing shit up at noon of your moving day, you will frustrate the fuck out of the friend helping you.

---IT'S THE DAY OF THE MOVE---
Moving is work. You have to be prepared for work. The simplest things you can do to be prepared for work are:
-Rest well (8 Hours)
-Eat well
-Plan ahead
-Don't drink or do drugs the night before work (unless you're a talented artist or writer and work consists of a prolonged, inspirational binge)

Let me tell you something. Sit down. Eye contact. Listen: There is nothing god can do to help this move go smoothly. So if you're going to set an ululating prayer alarm for 6:00AM, you are not prepared to work.

Also,
If you must get up and pray in the morning, don't chant 'ALLAHU AKBAR' as loud as you possibly can. You don't have a singing voice. No other muslim I've met during prayer times does that shit. Personal prayer is a quiet, reserved process. Mantra Meditation doesn't work if you're just going through the motions for like four minutes in the morning and doing a little up and down jig the whole time. Don't pretend you're the Mega Muslim by disregarding the volume of your inside voice; NOBODY is impressed, EVERYBODY is irritated. I saw how close you came to becoming a Mormon last year so don't pretend your present dogma was always written in blood.

If you book the building elevator for 9:00AM, and you don't use it until 12:00PM, and some Turkish dudes are moving out at the same time, don't start running your mouth about how much you need the elevator. When the person helping you is friendly to these people and quickly reaches a compromise, don't hiss 'Those are brown people.' Like it's some secret that people in general can take advantage sometimes. Don't lecture me/the help on your epic insights into the workings of neighbors you don't know for reasons that are irrational and mean. Those turkish fellows had shit planned out a hell of a lot better than we did.

The Turks gave us the Elevator for four hours.
Four hours later I had all of the furniture in the truck. After the furniture was moved, my friend magically transformed into a Goldbrick.



I loaded everything else myself. EVERYTHING.
At approximately 3PM, my friend disappeared into the bathroom. He claimed later on that he vomited six times, and after his approximately 45 minute break, he took his dogs for a walk.

Again, you're moving. You're not praying, you're not puking, you're not walking the dogs. You're fucking. Moving. If you aren't ready to move, don't bring a friend to do everything for you and then fill his pockets with excuses and thank yous.

If mooses and gooses were excuses and thank youses then we'd all have a good Christmas Truce of 1914.

Anyways
You reach a point when doing dogsbody-grade labor that you can't really be mad or frustrated in a reactive way. My engine has a cruising speed of 'passive aggressive' so I just tried to unobtrusively grumble and smile at the neighbors, who were mostly Indians (incredibly friendly if you give them a smile) and Caribbeans (aloof unless they're dressed sharp, then they have allll the answers) and kept my chin up.

We got through it, and even the drive home was nice. Once you're done and maybe ~2 blocks away from the place you're moving from, none of those frustrations really matter.
---


I hope you found this incidental 300th blog spectacular fulfilling. I'm going to go do...something. Might shower, might eat. I might just stare. The world is my enchilada, and with a little of my 'old world insight' so too can it be your'es enchilada.

Sleep tight my lovelies.