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This is a question Road Trip

Gather round the fire and share stories of epic travels. Remember this is about the voyage, not what happened when you got there. Any of that shite and you're going in the fire.

Suggestion by Dr Preference

(, Thu 14 Jul 2011, 22:27)
Pages: Popular, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

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Best way to move a barcalounger...
A fair few months ago now my friend moved out of his flat in Paddington, London to spend some time in America. He was originally from Spain and didn't have family here with which to store the crap he'd accumulated, so instead of putting it into storage, he just decided to flog it all on Gumtree. Before doing so, however, he decided to ask around the office if we wanted anything to save him listing everything online. One thing certainly took my eye - his reclining chair. The kind of barcalounger/la-z-boy in Friends. I foolishly agreed to take it, and even paid him that day, without even thinking about how I would get it all the way across and down to Clapham.

My crude solution was to borrow a cart-like contraption from work, wheel it all the way to Paddington, pick up the chair and wheel it back. Simple. I told my housemates the idea, and they decided we could make a day of it. Take a little break in Hyde Park, few beers/ciders, carry on down through Kensington, another break in Battersea Park, then down to Clapham. Maybe a break in Clapham Common too before the three-flight ascent to our flat.

The plan sounded fantastic, until we went to work to pick up the trolley/cart thing. Firstly it was blocked in behind a load of bikes, and lifting it over got our hands covered in axle grease. Not the best start. As we started pulling it along, the lack of suspension in any form caused it to rattle uneasily on the flattest of surfaces. This wasn't going to be as easy as I'd hoped.

As it bumped along, I realised what absolute cunts Londoners can be. No-one ever gave way to us on the pavement. It was a Saturday, and people were still walking like they were late for a meeting. It was about this time we stopped off at Saino's for the first of our alcoholic purchases. Getting through Hyde Park on the way up was quite pleasant in fact, maybe the alcohol had kicked in, or there weren't so many dicks about. We all perched on the trolley, and let it crawl slowly down the minor decline while quoting from pirate films, and finishing our supplies. We'd run dry halfway through Hyde Park, followed by that line from Pirates of the Caribbean about the rum being gone...garrrr!!!

Eventually we got to my friend's house, and picked up the bounty, and restocked our hold with precious alcohol. Yar! We felt like real pirates now! We took it in turns sitting on the barcalounger at the helm as 'captain' of the 'ship' while the rest of us pulled the cart along singing sea shanties. More specifically, 'Drunken Sailor' over and over again. We got strange looks through Hyde Park, and through most of Kensington as four drunk, 20-somethings pushed a reclining chair through the richest part of London pretending to be pirates. It didn't help that we were being taught the lyrics to 'Good Ship Venus' by one of my housemates, which is a particularly fruity number. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KLotX3HE-4c)

As we sailed south through Battersea, we found more favourable sea mates. A few homeless/mentally unstable people followed us briefly and helped us push, which was greatly welcomed. With a headwind, we made great progress. We missed Battersea Park by being too drunk to remember we vaguely planned to stop there, and before long we'd entered the north border of Clapham Common. Nearly home...

Alas...the seas around Clapham are not friendly waters - well that's what we'd convinced ourselves. It gets a bit fuzzy here, but my kiwi crew member had reminded me that Aussies and Saffers were commonplace here, and that they would try and steal our barcalounger at any cost, as they loved sitting down.

We wheeled the cart slowly through the common, weary of antipodal types. Our plan was to pretend to be Australian in the event of seeing Australians, and hopefully we'd blend in. It was seamless. Our Aussie accents were spot on! If anyone was listening to us they would have been entirely convinced that we were going to put another shrimp on our barbecue.

After another break we picked up final supplies, and delivered the swag to our flat. No one really remembers carrying the chair up the stairs, and in the morning the pristine cream chair was covered in horrible muddy/greasy hand marks, as were some walls.

In conclusion, this is a sound method to move a large item of furniture in theory. Recommendations would be to cut down on the drink, and try not to watch an influential movie about pirates/samurai/marines in the month leading up the the move.
(, Fri 15 Jul 2011, 14:32, 4 replies)
Do you mean Alexander Hleb?
(, Fri 15 Jul 2011, 14:40, closed)
Amiright, amIright?
(, Fri 15 Jul 2011, 14:51, closed)
You sir
Are right
(, Sun 17 Jul 2011, 3:01, closed)
Australians do love a good old-fashioned sit down.
However, I am hurt that you think your shabby Barcalounger is worthy of our lounging time. NEVER!
(, Sat 16 Jul 2011, 10:11, closed)

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Pages: Popular, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1