So, yeah, about that “date” I thought I’d have yesterday…

As you know, a girl named Kristina invited me over to help her move in her new TV. I thought it would be something easy to carry, like a 13-inch TV or maybe one of those hand-held thingies that get lousy reception.

Turns out, it was a 60-inch LCD Digital TV.

I thought there would be some movers there to help carry the TV; however, Kristina said she would have had to pay an extra $20 to have them carry and install it into her apartment. Ah yes, a girl who likes saving money – she’s just like me!

I didn’t have a dolly to carry the television in, so I ran back home and got my hands on the only thing I had available: my red wagon. I went back to Kristina’s place, and tried to gently lay the TV box onto the wagon without breaking it.

Sure enough: the box started to fall down fast. I jumped in front of the box to try and save the TV….

…and I did. How? By letting it fall right on top of me.

BTW: I don’t know if you know how heavy a 60-inch flat screen TV is… but it’s pretty heavy. Kristina had to stop a random jogger with big muscles to help pull it off me by wrapping a rope around it and pulling it up.

After I got unflattened, the jogging stranger picked up the box with one arm and carried it into the living room, then proceeded to help set it up. Meanwhile, Kristina told me about some of the other stuff she needed moved – namely, about 10 boxes filled with various items she wanted placed in her attic. The boxes weren’t nearly as big as the TV, so I flexed my muscles a bit (they still hurt from flexing a bit too hard) and said, “No problem, babe.”

But, um… okay, there was ONE problem.

Most of the boxes contained valuable antiques – glasses, Chinaware, porcelain dolls – which meant they had to be handled with care. Unfortunately, she didn’t tell me this until AFTER I tried moving them. I ended up dropping 9 out of the 10 boxes en route to the attic ladder, and accidentally dropped the last one while climbing up the rungs.

Needless to say, Kristina was mortified, and crying intensely. I tried to console her – “Hey, don’t worry – most of that stuff was old anyway!” – but nothing seemed to help.

It wasn’t until the muscular jogger came in and said the TV was hooked up that she started smiling him, thanking him profusely by kissing him on the cheek, then on the lips. To which I thought: “Hey, where’s MY kiss for carrying all those boxes!”

After kissing jogger guy for about 10 minutes, she turned to me and said: “Please go home, Non Juan.”

“But… but what about our date?” I asked.

Kristina looked at me with an odd look on my face: “A date?? What date? I never said we were going on a date! Besides, YOU JUST BROKE ALL OF MY ANTIQUE GOODS!”

“So…” I said, “…does this mean we should reschedule it for next week?”

That’s when jogger guy grabbed me by the shorts, took me to the front-door and threw me out, a la Jazzy Jeff on “Fresh Prince of Bel-Air” style!

Oh well – I’m sure she’ll calm down soon enough. Then I can write her and ask her out – after all, she wrote me first, which means she MUST want me to contact her as well!

-Non Juan

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