Not So Nice to Meet You

Newsletter 2018-10-20

I had an epiphany the other day: I don't know a single person in this city who can help me move a couch.

 I don't mean I don't have any friends who can physically lift that much weight. I mean after a decade of living in the same house, I don't know anybody here, period. And, no, my wife can't help me lift things. While she has many fine qualities, upper body strength is not one of them. It's not one of mine, either, but, as a guy, I have certain built-in abilities: exaggerating colds, lifting one half of any piece of furniture, and peeing while standing up. Although not at the same time—usually. But I don't have anybody to lift furniture with me, and that's both the saddest and proudest fact about my life.

 I have friends, of course. Just none who live within couch range. The closest person is my brother-in-law, who lives about 20 minutes away. But if I ask him to drive 20 minutes to spend two minutes helping me move something, I can't just shove him back out the door. I have to entert…