Wednesday, 25 December 2013

Moving The Pink Pool Table

It never ever crossed my mind to have a pool table, not to mention the wicked pink one. Until one day a good friend of mine offered us theirs, show us the picture and we fell in love instantly.

Like any other love, it contains desire more than merely logic. Of course I did measure the future room for it which located on the upper floor of the house, but what we didn't know that one pool table can be as heavy as one or two pregnant elephants. With twins each.

So, it was quite easy to transport it from our friend, the Adam Levine lookalike, place and moving it into our house, on the ground floor, with 8 strong tukangs at that time. But then nobody, including our mandor could de-crypt the mystery of how to move it from the ground floor to the upper floor without creating pyramid-size-tower-crane drama. And the mandor attitude of no-can-do-nothing just made me lost even further in this swirl of uncertainty.
We left it on the ground floor for quite some time, wrap it carefully with plastic. Look at it with deep concern in our eyes whenever we walk pass the table, feel helpless nothing we can do about, then eat chocolate to get better. Not good for my shape of course, but hey, what can you do with elephants size problems? Not much, I guess.

Then that day come. The day that we really really really have to move it to the upper floor otherwise. We call the mover and they offer us some options, including the crane scheme. And we finally accept the crane, really hope that it would be the best for the table future endeavor.

Apparently, the crane scheme couldn't be done since it needs sturdy flooring and we don't have that around the upper floor opening. well, Plan B to the rescue then, it needs 6-7 people, some thick pink blankets to do the job done. 

The whole process was so dramatic. I can feel Pharaoh' feeling back then whenever he's watching the pyramid being built. In my eyes, the movers morphing into these ancient Egyptian slave with their white cotton clothes, completed with their ancient tools and ancient looks. Ancient feeling. 

Anyway, the team work was amazing, I almost fell into this euphoric state of emotional cheesy-ness. Then I woke up, finding my self holding my smartphone, filming the whole process. No Pharaoh, no slaves. Just me looking at them, frantically gasping inside, then peaceful atmosphere surround me with such delicate mist of pure joy.

Big thanks to all Bapak-bapak movers for the great job they've done.


We hired Mandiri Movers (Bapak Heryanto) for this special task after googling some movers company, comparing prices, apparently not all of them provide such thing.

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