Nashville, it’s not that I don’t believe the Butcher’s friends are going to show up on Saturday, it’s just that… well, I don’t believe the Butcher’s friends are going to show up on Saturday. He says “So what? I’ll just move everything myself. I can do it.”
This seems to me so dumb. Why would we take all day to move everything ourselves when, if we just had even a little dependable help we could have everything on and off the truck in a couple of hours?
So, I’m asking for help. If you’re looking for something to do on Saturday, we could really use the help moving. We’ll get started around eight or nine and we have to have the truck back before four so one way or another it’s got to be done by then.
So, yeah, I guess it’ll kind of suck and I can’t afford to pay you (though I will let you stand next to my old bookshelves, on the off chance they come up with some trick to grant them a reprieve from the dump), but I will buy beer and pizza and I’ll let you pet my dog. Or the Butcher. Whichever you like.
And I’ll be in your debt forever. Obviously.