What a cluster! Never, ever, EVER trust UPS when they tell you “no problem.” Boy, did I learn that the hard way!

So, when last I wrote, we were waiting for UPS to arrive between 2 and 5 p.m. on Thursday to pick up all of our worldly possessions. I worked so hard to get everything the way they asked me to, to dot every “i” and cross every “t”, but to no avail.

When the driver and his 18-wheeler arrived at our house, he wouldn’t even come in the door. “I can’t take that,” was pretty much what he said.

“What?” (My response.)

Turns out that UPS Freight cannot pick up boxes that are not on a pallet and shrink wrapped.

They also cannot deliver to a residential address.

Oh, and you need a customs broker.


The list goes on.

Once again, I get on the phone with UPS. Once again I am transferred to at least four different people. Finally, after I break down into tears and hysterical sobbing, a woman in Florida arranges to have a regular UPS truck come and pick up the boxes.

An hour later, a very nice driver shows up at our house.

Now, this is where things get complicated. You see, it is almost 5:00 by then. The new owners of our home are sitting in their car in front of our house waiting to get in to do a walk through. The realtor has also arrived and is giving me shit about how his clients have a legal right to do their walk through and la-di-dah, blah, blah, blah.

Well, this New York girl had had it up to her eyeballs and went into battle mode with this young punk. You see, we still owned the house until 9:00 a.m. the following morning, and if he didn’t back up and straighten out, he was going to deal with the wrath of god in the form of one 5-foot 1-inch NY bitch.

Poor Lyn, my sweet little southern boy husband, just stood there muttering “she’s been drinking” (ok, a little wine with friends who came to give support), while my dear friend Mary watched with glee. She had never seen this version of me up close, and she was pleasantly surprised to see me in a rare form.

Needless to say, realtor-boy wisely backed down. Mary, the UPS man and I put all of the boxes into his truck, and Lyn and I collected the last of our things from the house so the buyers could do their thing.

They’re very nice people…

On the way out, I introduced myself to the buyers and tried to explain the chaos. They were quite understanding and kind. They, too, had recently relocated from the midwest and understood the trauma associated with moving long distance from a home they lived in for many years.

I had written them a letter and left them with good information about the house and the services they might need. Lyn and I had thoroughly cleaned the house in order to leave everything in the best condition possible. We went far beyond what other people do. I wanted to make them feel welcome and know how much we loved the house. It’s just the way I am.

Back to the UPS saga

So, once we got everything on the truck and I cried and cried and cried, we followed the truck up to a UPS store in Vista Village. The store is a franchise, so not technically UPS. The poor owner – a lovely woman named Elisabeth – was not prepared for what she received. It was like something from a bad dream — we had to explain again and again and again what was happening. Ultimately, around 7:00 p.m., we decided there wasn’t anything further we could do until the next morning, after our 9:00 a.m. closing appointment.

To be continued…

Published by donnageisler

Former marketing professional turned teacher of English as a Foreign Language. Living in Merida, Yucatan, Mexico. Lover of poodles, large and small.

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