The gamers nightmare: Stairs and moving people

So it happens that as I have said, gamers are generally sedentary people. We sit in front of computer screens or at dining room tables with our dice so we can kill things or solve problems. Well, when you get into RPG's, you also usually start to carry large, hardback books around and the more of them you have the better your chances of surviving the evening. The problem with this is that the next thing you know, you're carrying around 50+ lbs of books. Doesn't really seem like much, but then you also have to consider the bulk, because that many books doesn't fit in your normal backpack. The problem starts when you are gaming in location where you have to travel up and down a flight of steps, as without fail the steps are going to be either to narrow to conveniently move your pack or you will be lugging them up a set of those extremely narrow steps, the ones where a size 12 shoe doesn't easily fit and are usually so steep that you are out breath just walking up them, let alone lugging along your books. Well, I still haven't figured out how to manipulate staircases like that or deal with the baggage issue, but when you are also naturally sedentary, the exercise can be quite an experience as you almost pass out by the time you reach the top or bottom. As it happens this really isn't the nature of my blog, but it sets the tone for what is going on.

My close friend James recently asked me to help him move in his girlfriend who was moving to North Carolina from Texas and I wholeheartedly agreed. I mean, he said all she really had was a bed, a computer, and household items like clothing. It wasn't like we would have to move a sofa, piano, massive dresser or anything like that. So it was that on Saturday morning he calls me up to head down to where she was moving. I got out of bed and got ready and was waiting by the time he shows up,9:30. We head down to Hickory to meet his girlfriend and move her in. I told my wife it should only take an hour or two to get everything all settled in the apartment and she was fine with everything. We meet his girlfriend and head to the sign in office of the complex and start the process of registering and signing the rental agreement. It is about 11:30 when we start. Well, as it turned out the registration manager was a lightweight MMORPG'er and we started talking about on-line gaming only to get out of there around 1PM, instead of the more likely 12 if we hadn't realized our common interest.

When we arrive at the apartment, which is numbered in such a way we are thinking it is a first floor location, we realize it is actually up a flight of steps which are so narrow I can't put my size 13 shoe all the way on the step and it has an incline of about 45 degrees or a 1 to 1 rise. The staircase is about 4' wide, so I can't pass anybody on it, and the banister has the cute little squares on the main posts which almost rip my hand open before I realize how sharp the corners are. Well things are looking a bit worse than we expected, but even his girlfriend had said she hadn't even filled half the moving van she had so I still had some hope a fairly early finish.

Upon arrival I lay claim to the restroom to release the 40 ounce Sonic diet coke I had for breakfast and realize there is no toilet paper. Thankfully, that wasn't a problem this time. I inform my hostess of this with hopes that she will say she has some stowed in her luggage in case of a future bathroom need only to find out nope, she left her last roll in Texas. After the potty breaks my friend and I start to unload the truck, with his girlfriend acting as overseer.

That's when it all starts to go down hill. We start with the mattress, box springs and bed frame. No problem. Then we start moving the boxes, the never-ending boxes and totes. The first three trips turn into 6 then 9. By the time I have finished my ninth trip, pushing things around, sucking in my gut, my legs feel like jelly and I realize that pushing up and down with my legs wile carrying heavy objects also tends to push bodily waste into a trajectory for exiting the human craft. I look at my friend and his girlfriend and warn them of the oncoming disaster only to be handed a roll of paper towels. My friend says they won't flush, but I don't care, my bowels are howling at me like demon dogs that they're about to blow, so I rush to answer the call of nature.

Now, at this point I had really enjoyed the apartment. It was what I would call a spacious one bedroom apartment. But then I sat on the toilet. I was thankful at that point for the lack of toilet tissue, as if there had been any, it would gone in the toilet when I sat down. The sink top is digging into my left side, but I realize I have about a foot to a foot and a half of space on my right before the bath tub. It was at this point that I began to wonder about idiots who designed the bathroom. I mean, why couldn't they just move the toilet over 6 inches. I would be able to breath while sitting there and all would be fine. I mean, sheesh, if they hadn't had the room, could of improvised even and turned sideways and stuck my feet in the tub while taking care of business, but no, they had to place the tub just far enough away that was impractical as well. So while I'm sitting there contemplating all this my friend calls out, "is everything all right in there?" I answer him with an off hand comment and finally manage to finish my business. When I exit we proceed to unload the truck.

To finish unloading the truck, my friend suggests that he will carry stuff up to the landing, letting me carry it into the air-conditioned apartment. I'm like sure man that is great, but then my conscience hits me and I tell him only if I can spell him about halfway through. He looks at me like I'm crazy and I begin wondering what is wrong with him, but that is a another story. Anyways we start back in, unloading the truck, it's about 3 PM by now, about the time I had originally expected to be finished.

Well, my friend makes about 10 to 15 trips to the top of the stairs, finishing off everything we had moved to the back of the truck, when his girlfriend tells him to take a break. We sit for a few minutes, sipping on our drinks before I head back down and finish shifting everything forward except for the TV. By now my shirt is soaking wet, I can hardly see for the sweat dripping into my eyes, and walking down the stairs I realize that my thighs feel like someone took saw and ran it across the top of my legs until they hit the bone. I am in pain.

I finish moving all the stuff forward and start to take the first load up the stairs. It is now that I realize the gamers curse. His girlfriend is gamer as well, with the aforementioned need of books. Thankfully she was primarily a MMORPG'er, so most of her books are just paperbacks and I realize they are for reading pleasure, not gaming. As I drop off the first box, I see my friend give me an off look but don't think anything of it. By my third trip, my friends look is extremely uncomfortable and he asks me if I am ok. Of course I am, what is he talking about I reply. He just shakes his head and continues carrying the books inside. Two trips later he asks me again and I'm thinking to myself what is going on, but then I realize I'm so torn up I'm placing the boxes I am carrying about 4 steps in front of me, so I'm leaning over like a gorilla before moving up a couple of steps and moving the books further up. Now my friend is asking me if I'm ok every time I head up the stairs. Of course I'm fine I keep telling him, then it hits me, my face must be brighter red than Rudolph's nose, I'm covered from hairline down to my toes in sweat and breathing like a horse that's been ridden hard for 12 hours straight. What is wrong with me? Oh yeah I'm a gamer and so out of shape that if I had tried to run up and down those steps five times quickly I would have had a heart attack and died. I finish taking up the last of the boxes and totes, leaving the 2 things I'm dreading because I was told they were the heaviest items, the computer and the TV.

Needless to say we finished unpacking the truck without incident, but not until about 6PM. What I thought was going to be a 4-5 hour trip turns into 12 hour trip by the time we take his girlfriend to the store and get some grub. And of course my wife calls at 5PM "where are you? what is taking so long? I need you to get something!" My answers respectively are unloading the truck in Hickory, we had to carry everything up a flight of stairs from Hell, and I don't have my checkbook so I can't get anything, at which point I hear her hough and say "I'll just have to do it tomorrow with everything else I have to do." I bid her a good day and settle end for the chewing out of a lifetime when I get home, but all she says when I walk through the door is high Honey, I love you. Oh yeah, your son fell off the sofa and split his scalp open. He's got a knot the size of chicken egg on the back of his head.

It' then I realize it's all relative. If not for my son's head she probably would have been fuming. I could've fallen and been the one with the egg on my noggin', or worse. And, oh yeah, God, I need to get into shape. Which takes me to my final statement. Lord, my spirits willing, but my belly just keeps getting in the way.