I had to move from a dorm to another dorm once and “borrowed” a grocery cart because I had like 12¢ in my checking account and had to just push all my shit in a grocery cart on a major city’s downtown sidewalks on a business day.

I agreed to fly across the country to drive my dad’s car back home while he drove the uhaul with his stuff. The day I fly out, he calls and tells me he’s been drinking again, the movers canceled on him, and he’s a loser.

I get there and he’s puking up blood as he detoxes, hasn’t eaten in days, and I’m stuck with one driver and two cars. I had to ask my uncle to fly out to help instead of spending time with his son who was on military leave while my stepmother called around to find movers last minute, all while my dad complains about the pain he’s in and how he can’t sleep while taking constant naps and he’s such a loser.

Halfway back he has a seizure in the car I’m driving and I have to help him get the bile and blood he’s choking on out of his throat while operating a vehicle at 80mph to the next exit. Afterward his memory is frazzled and it takes a couple hours for him to remember where he is and what we’re doing.

We get home, I tell him I’m never helping him move again, his response is “but we listened to your music 90% of the way here!” This was three weeks ago.

I was living with my girlfriend, at her place. I went home to take care of my mother who had cancer. My mother died. I came home after that and my girlfriend broke up with me. I didn’t have anywhere to go. I moved to my car, in the winter. That sucked.

Moving everything.

Early in my transition I overheard one of the movers saying to the other.

Where does the fag want us to put the dresser?

On the day we were set to move, we discovered the house we’d been renting had a roach problem when we moved the fridge and hundreds of them scurried away. The movers told us they couldn’t legally shift our stuff in that condition, but if we took care of it they’d come back on the weekend for us. (That was a long weekend, so we gave them a five-star rating and would have made it six if we could.)

After fumigating and slashing the fabric on the base of every piece of furniture to check with bugs, we were ready. There was torrential rain that day, and even though I put matting down to help our feet grip on the steps, my wife slipped and bruised her hip so badly the marks were still there six weeks later. I wanted to postpone the move and take to the emergency room, but she refused. We were moving that day, even if it killed her!

Oh, and we had no internet because the ISP accidentally sent our router to another city and wouldn’t give us a replacement until they found the first one.

I’ve lived in 14 different houses. I can’t remember any of the moves being particularly bad. Hard work, yes. Have had a couple of sofas not get through doors. Worst related thing was moving into first unfurnished place and assembling the new wooden bed on day 1 with a manual screwdriver that wrecked my hands and left me exhausted. Next day I bought an electric screwdriver and it’s remained one of my top purchases of all time.

Moved several states away. Hired a company to load the truck I rented, and the same company to unload at my destination. A few days before moving day they called and said they couldn’t commit to the reservation and cancelled on me, leaving me to scramble to find a new company to load up. Lucky I do and get to my destination without issue. They show up to unload and are not dressed properly at all. One of the two guys clearly doesn’t want to be there and it’s doing the absolute bare minimum each trip he makes. The other guy slips on the truck ramp and hurts himself. Decides the weather was too dangerous to continue (it had sprinkled a little bit like 30 minutes ago) and cancelled the rest of the move with literally all of my furniture still in the truck. I had to call around frantically on a Sunday morning to see if there was any other company that could come out immediately and finish moving. Thankfully I was able to find one and gave each of them a big tip for saving my ass.

Moved into a newly renovated flat that hadn’t been cleaned. So there was a think layer of brick/plaster dust all over every surface. Then spent months fighting a four figure electricity bill because it turns out the builders had used my particular flat to charge their kit for months.

I was living with two other roommates and we were moving into another city to live there together as well. Me and one roommate were planning ahead and got moving boxes, slowly sorting out stuff that can be thrown out, and started packing things way ahead of the moving date.

The other roommate couldn’t be bothered by all of this. The day we were moving he started packing his things. We had rented a moving truck for that day and were able to move my and the prepared roommates’ stuff to the new appartment first. Then we drove back to help lazy roommate. If all had been planned accordingly we wouldn’t have had to drive back to pick up a second batch of household items - only for returning the moving truck, and then to travel back to the new place by train.

Unfortunately he had not anticipated that he would have needed moving boxes and it was way too late to organize some. We were moving all of his stuff with garbage bags. They are not sufficient to move things at all.

Moving lazy roommates’ stuff turned out to last several more hours than anticipated. We almost exceeded the deadline for returning the moving truck to the rental place, which would have resulted in having to be charged for another day.

0/10 for moving with garbage bags instead of moving boxes.

My cats went from indoor-outdoor to indoor only. They were fucked up for 6 months and I was fucked up because they were fucked up. Depression kitties, depressed cat lady.

It’s winter. My friend needs help moving stuff out of his childhood home after his mom died. Older brothers already got their share.

So here’s the 4 of us guys moving all this old shit, and we come to the upstairs master bedroom. There’s this 7-foot tall solid oak armoire. The stairs are a narrow ¾ spiral. We suspect they got it in originally by hosting it up over the balcony railing (his father had owned a profitable business before one of his brothers drank it into the ground, so it was a big place with high ceilings and stuff).

It took three of us, because that’s all that would fit, to move this humongous chungus inch by goddamn inch down those stairs. Two on the bottom, me up top, and it took like a half hour. And since we didn’t have a big furniture dolly we had to carry the goddamn thing out to the truck and walk it up the slippery metal ramp in Chicagoland flurrying winter.

Moved it into his new house, first floor master bedroom thankfully. We subsequently then told him that if he ever wanted to move it again, he could do it his goddamn self.

Edit: Almost forgot the part where one of the guys lost his footing, and just two of us were holding this in place. If one of the other two of us lost our grip, the two guys below it would have ended up in the hospital. Although my redneck friend almost certainly would have lived through it, cuz that guy and his whole family are a bunch of mutants and are practically indestructible, The other guy would probably have gotten killed or crippled since he was the one who lost his footing too.

They stole a firearm.

I have two. One moving some ‘friends’. One moving myself.

The first was when I was in graduate school. About five of us agreed to move a couple and their kid across town. One was another graduate student. His wife was the front office admin. We figured it was nbd. One of us had a truck and they got uhaul. Little did we know ‘moving’ meant ‘packing’. What should have been an afternoon turned into three days. Largely because of how particular she was about how things were packed. We would have said no, but she was in charge of important documents like travel reimbursements so we didn’t want to risk it.

The second was moving to a new job. The truck was late, the place was filthy, and I had to sleep on the wooden floors. Those floors were so disgusting I decided to clean them. I vacuumed. I mopped. Nothing would get them clean, so I got a power washer. I learned that day that power washers can set off smoke detectors. The entire building was evacuated. Afterwards, I had to meet with the dean about it. She chewed me out and asked why I hadn’t called facilities to have it clean. I told her if it wasn’t cleaned before I moved in why should I expect it to be cleaned now. I have a feeling my contract not being renewed had something to do with that.

So I had bottom surgery two months prior, bed bug treatment like a week or two prior, and was just returning to work like the next day after moving the furniture. Also I couldn’t afford movers and had no friends helping because it was 2021. Thankfully I had my now wife with me, but it was two women moving an hour away.

Or it may have been like two months later when due to unfortunate chance + adhd my landlord thought we abandoned the place when we finally started moving into a new place and threw away the blanket my mom used while dying.