Delivery Day: Stair Drama, Missing Boxes, and a Cat on Patrol

We skipped our last glorious breakfast at the Only You August 4^th because the movers were scheduled for 8:00 AM. This was a mistake.

At 10:00, two guys finally rolled up… and immediately went for a half-hour coffee break. Not exactly the high-energy start I’d imagined.

Only two movers? For 222 total items, including furniture? It was immediately clear that once again there wasn’t really a plan to finish in a single day. Neither guy spoke any English, either. My Spanish is still coming back, so this made for a lot of pantomime and Google Translate.

Almost everything fit in the building’s elevator, but they seemed to be telling me some items would not be delivered that day because they required a lift through the window, which would need to happen the next day. This, despite the fact that we’re only on the second floor and that literally nothing we own is too big for the stairs.

When I called the move coordinator in Portugal (three attempts before she picked up), she explained the problem: these guys were contractors, and they “weren’t allowed” to carry anything up the stairs without authorization. Yes, really.

I authorized it immediately. She then hinted there might be an extra charge. I pointed her to the contract that clearly stated delivery to the second floor was included, and told her I wouldn’t be paying extra for them to do the job they were hired to do.

A couple more guys arrived mid-afternoon, and by day’s end the truck was empty. Through all of this, Lexie was meant to be safely stashed in the guest bathroom. Apparently, she missed the memo. Twice, she managed to open the door and stroll out into the chaos to see what was going on — tail up, eyes wide, inspecting the operation like a very judgmental foreman.

Kristie and I had been checking incoming boxes against the inventory all day, and when they said they had finished, we were still missing five items.

One mover insisted there were no missing boxes, just duplicate numbers on the inventory. That load of baloney would have been slightly easier to swallow if another mover hadn’t walked in carrying one more box mid-excuse, bringing the number down to four missing.

I called the coordinator again. Her advice? “You’ll have to file a claim with the delivery company in Spain.”

At that point, my patience was more than frayed. Luckily, one of the movers – a genuinely nice, reasonable guy – suggested that we re-inventory everything in the morning to confirm before filing any claims.

That night, Kristie and I went through every discarded scrap of wrapping from things we’d already unpacked, checked every label on still-sealed boxes, and cross-referenced the lot against the inventory.

By the end, we found them all. Out of 222 items, we’d simply missed a few in the chaos.

I still feel bad for losing my cool earlier, but I stand by being furious at the lame “duplicate number” lie and the uselessness of the coordinator.

We cleared just enough space in my office to open the sofa bed, which became our first night’s sleeping spot. Lexie was thrilled to have people to snuggle with after a long, confusing day.

The next morning, the nice guy returned bright and early with two different helpers to reassemble furniture and start hauling away mountains of packing material. Kristie and I  went into full unwrapping mode. By the end of the second day, we had the apartment about 75% unpacked.

It felt almost spacious once the movers cleared away the piles of boxes and bundles of bubble wrap.

Out of everything we moved, we had only one casualty: an antique desk Kristie used as a vanity table. The movers hadn’t braced its thin legs properly, and two of them broke away from the body of the unit. The good news? They came off in one piece with the veneer attached, which is a small mercy. I’m moderately optimistic it can be repaired, although I’ll have to find someone to do it. I notified the coordinator, and while she acknowledged the damage, she hasn’t said anything about repair or reimbursement. I’m sure when the time comes, she’ll tell me to file a claim with someone else.

We’d paid extra for the movers to return in a week to remove the rest of the packing materials, which meant we had a firm deadline for finishing the unpacking. That doesn’t mean everything will be perfectly organized, but at least the boxes will be gone.