Apparently, those members of the old Soviet Union who embraced Gorbachev's ideas of openness and lively debate during the 80's are not the same comrades that have come to dominate America's home-moving industry.
Lauren and I were informed by our movers today, just 24 hours before our scheduled pick-up, that -- despite having no such clause in our "contract" and having never come up in prior discussions about the move -- we would have to pay 60% of our total moving cost tomorrow. In cash. No check, no cashiers check, no Diners Club. Just cash. Oh, and cash would be required upon their arrival in Aspen. I made an attempt to argue, but my objections were met with all the sympathy one would expect from the Soviet stereotype. Despite the broken English, I was able to get the gist of the dispatchers message, which went something like this: "If you ever want to see your sh*t again, you'll pay us, and it'll be cash." Nice fellow.
This, coupled with the fact that Lauren's friend who had used their services just days ago had already been 1) told that her $1600 estimate was really a $3200 charge AFTER the truck was loaded; 2) reduced to tears when she called to ask if she could pay with a check; and 3) repeatedly hung up on, was enought to send me to the internet. A couple of minutes and several horror stories about the company later, I had worked up the nerve to bravely allow my father to call up and fire them.
As I would hate to undo all the US -Russia goodwill that came out of Rocky IV, I won't name the offending company. Plus, they know where I live. So it's U-Haul time for us, which means Lauren's 20-year old, 300 pound couch might have to find a new home. Sad story.
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