Then he signed the bottom of it. Three pages. And he wrote his company name and his license number on it, unprompted, because — as he told me in the driveway — he’d been in the middle of exactly this kind of job twice before and he’d learned.
Three: do not take any part of the house itself. The curtains were the hard one. Twenty-two hundred dollars of custom drapery, made for those windows, that I had paid for.
Rosalind said: “Rods stay, hardware stays. The panels are yours — they’re not affixed. But I want photographs of the windows after, so nobody can say you damaged anything.”
So there are photographs of eleven bare windows in a house in Scottsdale on my phone, time-stamped 11:48 a.m. on the Friday after Thanksgiving.
The Movers Were There Five and a Half Hours and I Have One Thing I Need to Say About Those Men
