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.