Tag Archives: favors

I’d just hate to trouble you

I really must be going. I … I left my fridge … unattended. I mean, it’s my dog, he really needs a walk. And, please, I wouldn’t want to put you through any more trouble. It’s just that, I’m unused to such hospitality. No, I loved the appetizers. I felt bad eating any more than I’ve already eaten. You see, I … my grandmother is Norwegian, and she instilled upon me at a very early age how important it is to never go over someone else’s house and eat a lot of appetizers. I know, I know, it really doesn’t apply here. It’s just that, you know, it’s in my DNA now, it’s like a reflex. Please, OK, I’ll have one more appetizer. See? Mmm. That’s a good appetizer. What is this, salami? Mortadella? I can never really tell the difference between all of those cured meats.

No, I don’t want your son to walk to my house to take my dog out. That’s crazy. I mean, it’s a very nice offer. I just … how could I accept such generosity? And what if your son gets kidnapped on the way over? It’s too late for such a little guy to be out walking around by himself. Sure, yeah things were different when we were little kids. There’s like a lot more predators out there than there were back then. A lot of wackos. Plus, my dog, he’s not good with kids. And I don’t think he’s had his shots. I mean, I don’t think he’s rabid or anything, I hope not. It’s just that, I got one of those cards from the vet last week, I think he’s like a month or two overdo. And you know, better safe than sorry, imagining your son were to make it to my house without getting abducted. Look, I’m just saying, there’s a lot of potential for danger, and I couldn’t live with all of that guilt, not on my account, not after you’ve gone through such trouble here, what a lovely spread. What delicious sopressata.

You’re sister-in-law is a vet? That’s terribly nice of you to recommend her services but … no … please, Jerry, put down the phone. No, look I have a vet. I’m very happy. Well my vet’s a family friend also, or a friend of the family, a different friend, but yeah, come on, put down the phone, don’t bother your sister-in-law. What is she going to just drop what she’s doing and do a vaccination house call? That’s … it’s wildly unnecessary. You know what? Here, give me another one of those … mmm … I’ll just walk him a little later. Yeah, he’s good. Please, tell your son to take off his coat. Hey buddy, look, my house is locked. You’re seriously, you’re unbelievably kind, and it’s not that I don’t appreciate your going out of your way for me it’s just. It’s just … it’s my brother. He’s … he’s having a bit of legal trouble. I hate to bore you with any details. Let’s just say he’s hiding out for a little bit. In fact, I think I better check up on him. I was supposed to make sure he took his medication.

It’s just, he’s terrible with dogs. I have to keep them in separate rooms. And besides, if Junior were to knock on the window and scare my brother. He’s very easily startled. There’s no telling what would happen. You know, with the legal troubles and all. I’ve said too much. Which is why I hope you can understand, I can’t stay for dinner. I really … I’m so happy that you think so highly of me, but I was really just here to pick up these papers. I’m glad you had them on you. So I’ll just get them back to you tomorrow at the office, all right? Please. No, yes … no you’re brother doesn’t work for the DA’s office, does he? Oh yeah, I do remember you saying something. No, Jerry, put the phone down. Come on. All right, OK, I’ll stay. I’ll stay, yeah. OK. But I’ve got to get home and get to these papers. You know how it is, right? Jerry, no thanks, I can’t eat any more prosciutto. It’s not … no, I love it. It’s just so salty. I can’t even feel my lips anymore man.

Anybody moving? Need any help?

I love helping people move. Every once in a while I’ll write something on Facebook, like, “Anybody moving? You need any help? Call me up!” usually around springtime, when everybody decides to get out, to try life out in a new neighborhood. For a lot of people, nothing’s worse than packing everything they own into boxes, disassembling all of their furniture, and then spending a whole day moving all of those boxes and furniture pieces down several flights of stairs, out onto the sidewalk, into a big truck or a large van, you know where I’m going with this, driving to their new place, unpacking, unmoving, or I guess just moving, but the second part of the move. It’s terrible. It’s a whole day off from work of just unforgiving manual labor.

So yeah, I don’t particularly enjoy it either. But I love volunteering to help people move. Think about it. Everybody needs help moving. And everybody hates it. It’s the one thing in life, the one giant chore that you set out to do, you realize that it’s all but impossible to do alone, and then you go onto craigslist to look into maybe hiring some movers, and then you’re like, Jesus, that’s going to be so much money. I don’t have that kind of cash.

Why do I love moving then? The power. Doing a huge favor like that might seem like a nice gesture on my part, but on the contrary, I’m only doing it to someday hold it over somebody else’s head. And since moving is such a big chore – I’m giving up my weekend here! – I’ll be in a position to hold it over some heads for a long time.

One obvious benefit is that I’ll never have any trouble moving myself. I’ve already helped like ten of my friends move in the past year. So whenever I decide to get a new apartment or change houses, I can call five of them up and still have a five-person favor surplus. And probably more, because if five people show up to help me move, they’re only going to be doing like one fifth of the work that I did when I was the only one to show up to help. Maybe somebody else came, I don’t know. It’s never five people.

But I don’t plan on moving anytime soon. And so I can continuously call on ten people to return small favors for me almost indefinitely. Think about it, I’ll help you move. I’ll spend all day at your old place and then at your new place. When we’re all done, how about we head out to a bar? Maybe you can buy me a beer.

But that’s just the start. Maybe I’ll need some dry cleaning picked up next Friday. Maybe I need someone to hang out at my house while I’m at work to wait for a package to arrive. Maybe I need five bucks. Maybe I want a bite of your sandwich. What are you going to say no? I gave up a whole weekend to help you move. Come on. Hand it over. Just cut it in half.

And the great thing about these small tiny favors, they’re like an almost indefinite supply. Are you really going to tell me after giving me half a sandwich and buying me a drink that we’re even? Ha! Make sure you get extra mayo on the next one, that bite was a little dry.

Even better, if I ever do decide to move, even if I have been calling on you for favors for the past few months, who do you think I’m going to call to help me out? You. And what are you going to say, no? “Sorry Rob, I’m not going to help you out, even though you helped me out, because you’ve been asking a lot of small requests lately.” Nope. I helped you, you help me. And after you’re done setting that last box down over there in the corner, I’ll be like, “Here man, have a beer. Cheers,” clink, “we’re even.”

The absolute best part, and I’m almost reluctant to even admit this here, it’s almost like a trade secret, but when I’m helping you move, I’m going to act like such a spaz. Knocking into stuff. Almost dropping your lamp. Maybe even dropping your lamp, I don’t know. So I’ll be helping you, yeah, but you’re not going to rely on me to do any of the super heavy lifting. And I’m going to be taking it real slow, like, seriously, do you think this is a priority of mine? Making sure this moving job is done like it’s my stuff?

Having said all of this, seriously, hit me up if you need help moving. You’re probably saying to yourself, “Is this guy nuts? After revealing his true intentions for everybody to read, he thinks I’m going to ask him to help me move?” And the answer is, of course you are. Look around your place. Your couch. Your bed. All of that stuff on your shelves. You’re going to tackle all of that by yourself? You’re really going to say no to an extra pair of hands. Of course you won’t. Because moving sucks. And even though we both know you’re going to owe me big, you’re definitely going to call me up.

I can’t help you out, I’m sorry

Look, if you ever get sent to jail, I’m sorry, but I’m never coming to visit. No way. Do you know what kind of a process that would be? It’s like going through airport security times ten. And then you’re supposed to give your driver’s license in for a visitor’s pass? Call me uncooperative, but what exactly is the point of that? To me, it looks like a reason for them to keep you locked in. I can just see it now, I’m visiting you, whatever, you’re happy to see me, but it’s really bittersweet, because you’re in jail, they won’t even let us shake hands or high five or anything. And of course I’ll be leaving and you won’t. But what if one of your new jail friends spots my visitor’s pass? Or what if it falls off? Prison guards are the worst. Well, that’s not really fair to say. I’ve never actually met any of them. Plus, they’re dealing with a population that outnumbers them by a large margin. They’re living one stone’s throw from a prison riot. I guess I’d be on edge too.

So my pass falls off and I’m like, “No, I’m just visiting, I swear!” Yeah right. I’m sure the prison guard is going to be super cooperative. What if I get accidentally sent in with the general population? I wouldn’t last a day. Well, I would, but not under these circumstances. There’s just too much that could go wrong, so, yeah, I’m not going to visit. I’ll write. That would be pretty cool, to have a prison pen pal. But only if it’s somebody I know. I’m not just going to start soliciting prisoner pen pals, because, eventually they’ll get out, considering they’re not in for life, and then what? They’ll start hitting me up? Wanting to hang out? But I’d totally write to you. And I’d pick you up after you get released, again, assuming you’re not in for too long, and if I’m still in the area when you get out.

Also, and I hope we never have to walk down this road either, but if you ever get sick and you have to go to the hospital, listen, I wish you the best of luck, the speediest of recoveries, but I’m not coming to visit you there either. Prison or hospitals. Or is it nor hospitals? At what point do you start using nor over or? This isn’t really important I guess.

What I’m saying is, you know how I am about all of that hand sanitizing stuff they want you to use, right? I don’t buy it. I don’t like the idea of my personal micro-biome being messed up like that. And then what, I wipe my hands clean, five, six times, there’s no germs left on my skin, and then I run into some nurse who’s covered in antibiotic resistant superbugs? Not going to happen to me. Not if I can help it, anyway. I mean, if I have to go to the hospital, I have to go, no way of getting around that one. But just to visit? Sorry. But if you need a ride home, I mean, I don’t have a car, but I could see about borrowing my parents’. We’ll see. But you look pretty healthy.

You’re a big reader, right? Cool, that’s really good for you. And you should. Reading’s great. Definitely. But here’s the thing, again, I’m not even sure this really applies to us, or to me, but I’m not the guy you want to ask to do you a favor and return some library books. I’m just putting it out there, that you should probably ask somebody else. Not probably, definitely. It’s too much responsibility. Well, the responsibility is minimal, what I meant to say is that there’s too much that could go wrong.

Like what kind of a person wants to be a librarian? No, no, it’ll make sense. Because, think about it, they like being around books, all the time books, nose stuck in a book. Do you think they’re really paying attention to work? No, they’re paying attention to their books, they can’t get enough reading. Like you with your books, but every waking second. And so I come in with a whole stack of your borrowed books, and I’m like, “Hello? Can I put these right here?” And the librarian’s like, “Yeah, sure, right there, whatever,” without even looking up from her book. She forgets to restack them, you start getting collection notices from the library, you ask me if I’m sure that I remembered to return them, I say yes, the librarian says no, who are you going to believe? You say me, you say that now, but there’ll always be that little bit of doubt, like maybe I just can’t admit to a mistake, like I’m hiding them in my apartment, too afraid to come out with it already. That wouldn’t go away, inside of you I mean, it would linger, it would fester. You’re too good of a friend. I wouldn’t want us to ever be at odds over something so stupid. But I’d definitely give you a ride, or I’d help you find somebody else to return those books for you, not a friend, somebody not too close, like a work associate. You just name it. I got you man.