22.8.2010 by Inken.

Sending a car to Germany which was bought here in the US is basically no big deal. You have to have it registered for at least six months, and you have to pay for transportation. But it certainly is a totally different story, if it is MY car and if it is ME who has to communicate with all parties involved. Why take the easy way, if there’s a complicated one?

Ozzy Express LLC, owned by Oswaldo, was given the order to bring Gizmo, beloved car and companion, to New Jersey. We were told that Ozzy would show up on Thursday or Friday. This was definitely a schedule in need of being narrowed down a bit, at least to 24 hours instead of 48. So I managed to find out Oswaldo’s telephone number and called him. The conversation follows:

I: “Oswaldo?”

O: “Hello?”

I: “Hi, this is Inken Schuster of 19 Lexington Road in West Hartford. Is this Oswaldo?”

O: “Yep! Ozzy Exprrrrress speaking. Oswaldo on the phone!”

I: “Fine! Oswaldo, you’re supposed to pick up my Mazda Miata this Thursday or Friday, right? Do you think we can agree on Thursday?”

O: “Why I not come today, I have time? You have time?”

I: “Today would be even better, but you should be here before 6.30pm.”

O: “What? Nonono! I come afterrrrr eight.”

I: tempted to say “lucky you”!” I said “No, Oswaldo, today I am only here until 6.30. After that we are invited for dinner.”

O: “No matterrrrr, only need carrrrr, not you. I come afterrrrrr eight.”

I: “Well, I see that a little different. Can you come either today before six thirty, or tomorrow morning?”

O: “Woman, I tell you I’ll be therrrre afterrrrr eight! Don’t you underrrrrstand?”

I: “Oswaldo, there is no reason to shout at me. And I perfectly understand. But you don’t seem to understand that I am not here today after eight. And I want to be present, when somebody picks up my car.”

O: “Woman, hang up, I call you again in an hourrrrr.”

Wondering, which difference this hour would make in our obviously unequal perception of our only shared language, I hung up. We went to a wonderful dinner at Brenda and Bob’s house. And instead of one hour later, Ozzy called two hours later to tell me….

O: “Arrrrrrre you therrrrrre yet? I come shorrrrrtly!”

I: not tempted to be sarcastic anymore, rather to go ballistic “No Oswaldo, I told you, I would NOT be there after eight. Can you come tomorrow morning?”

O: “You told, you not therrrrrre beforrrrrre six thirrrrrty, woman. Do you think, you know what you want?”

I: adorably cool as I must say “Yes, Oswaldo, I think so. Can you come tomorrow?”

O: “Now listen, woman, because you no underrrrrstand me and I no underrrrrrrstand you, I just tell you now: I will be therrrre between 7.30am and 8.30am. Make surrrrre, carrrrr and all paperrrrrrrr is rrrrready, I pick up.”

I: exhausted “Yes sir. See you tomorrow.”

Tomorrrrrrrow 7.30:

Driving the car up the ramp wasn’t any easier. Picture me in the car, Oswaldo to my left shouting “to the rrrright, to the rrrrrright” and Augustin to my right shouting “weiter links, weiter links! (further to the left, further to the left!). It takes a saint not to shout back!

Next time I will drive my car to Germany. Still working on a plan to cross the ocean. I will let you know!

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22.8.2010 by Inken.

When August 16th rose, we definitely knew that now everything would become VERY serious and real. That day at approx. 9.30am the moving company was suppodsed to come packing up all our stuff – and the stuff for others, we will bring back to Germany. No sweat, everything is totally legal!

So when Augustin was leaving the hotel to go to one of those not too exciting last working days, which were filled with farewell lunches, gift giving etc., I was left alone and bound to welcome “the crew”. Here they are:

These three musketeers are hard working, nice and friendly guys, who even kept sweeping dirt off  their shoes on the door mat after I totally gave up being concerned about dirt at all (which happened pretty fast!).

They arrived in a little truck filled with wrapping material and boxes.

Their mascot didn’t survive the trip, but Kenny always had a dying issue anyway…

It didn’t last long until the three packers got their nicknames:

Meet Lukas, aka “Pineapple”: Snapple should pay him some serious tuition!

This is Peter “Grumpy” aka “Droid”. I actually caught him in one of those rare moments, when the corners of his mouth rose above his upper lip…

And this smiling guy actually refused to tell me his name. I guess he thought, I was simply too dumb to pronounce it… Probably right. Knowing how annoying it can be to live with a name one constantly has to spell, I simply called him “Unknown”.

However, the boys went right to work. Everything, literally EVERYTHING, was packed and wrapped and bubblefoiled and taped like mummies. Anybody remembering Christo’s wrapping of the Reichstag in Berlin? Well, Mr. Christo, here is some decent competition!

I begged the boys to give me something to do, but they absolutely refused to do so. I was constantly in their way, so I was reduced to my basic functions: bringing food and paying tips. However, they did more than I would have managed with ten of my friends. And here are some of the results:

I signed for 304 boxes including the mattress and the garden swing,  we will see, if everything will reach Munich…

On Wednesday the guys came back with our 40feet container. It is orange, which, I reckon,  is always a good sign.

After parking and fasting the container, and after a girlie breakfast coffee (iced coffee with French vanilla and loads of sugar, boaaaaaahhhhh!!!), the three boys schlepped every single box through the front and the back door. You should have seen and sensed this testosterone-adrenaline-French vanilla driven energy!

I told you so, Mr. Hirsch, and I told you so, Augustin: the necklace tree and all Billy bookcases AND the couch would have fit into the container! I TOLD YOU SO!!!!!!!!!!! The new couch will be expeeeeensive!!!

Sleepy’s never tell you about the weight of their mattresses. I guess, they know why…

Container full, Container unfixed, Container gone… All in an instant. Not even time to shed a little crocodile tear.

So I was there with this empty house, empty garage and a whole lot of this…

and this…

and that…

I can only recommend not to be nosy enough to pull the drawer at the bottom of your oven out. This is what it looks like AFTER brooming and a first application of mop and clorox… Not our dirt, by the way!

Did you ever notice how much bigger houses seem to be when they are empty? Tough shit that nobody can live in an empty house…

So this was, almost, our good bye to 19 Lexington Road…

But only almost. There’s more to come, so keep reading, folks!!!

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