tcsa

Update on Movement Du Cheese

Went to see if the Navy would honor the premise that they will move a retiree (that would be the GM1, for those of you playing the home game) within a year of retirement.
Apparently they take that "within a year" to the furthest extent. Ain't gonna happen within the necessary time frame. This news is communicated by the civilian worker at the Relocation office literally tossing our paperwork back at us and snapping at us over her shoulder that "we don't have to deal with you people anymore, it's all online."
GM1 sits on me until I quit hyperventilating.
So we go to the provided computer to try to do the online version.
Sort of like tax instructions for the itemized long form... in Swahili.
In the middle of this fun, second equally-polite civilian worker turns off the power to the room and barks "We're closed now."
GM1 literally drags me from the room as I curse the entire office staff, loudly. I even used the C word.
You know the one I mean.
I think I told one of them they were a walking example of a Dirty Sanchez.
We get home, and I am quivering like a Chihuahua pooping a peach pit.
While I try to work the online version at my home computer, the GM1 goes over to the apartment office to drop off our thirty days notice. He comes back with The Look Of Death.
(The Look Of Death is a patented scowl-turning-snarl, previously used on misbehaving minions and lackies on his ship, to great effect. It scares the hell out of me, and I know he's as sweet as a kitten. The effect on the unsuspecting is even greater.)
He growls "They're enforcing the lease!" and takes the alternate, just-in-case letter I printed up, that has our move out date at the end of lease. In a cloud of sulpher, he's off to the apartment management again.
He returns all smiles.
"Wot hoppen?" sniffles I, being digitally thrashed by the online moving form.
"Lara (the apartment manager- Cheese) was there and took one look at me and asked why I was so upset. Told her it was highway robbery to hold us to a lease with so little time left on it. She ran off, came back with written okay to drop the lease and move. Turns out there's a list of people waiting for our kind of apartment. And I think she thought I was going to kill someone."
I do love my GM1.
However, online form, once processed, informs me that all my selected dates for the move are rejected and thus I must FILL IT ALL OUT AGAIN.
I do, expecting to be rejected again. I am not disappointed. At this time I enquire of the GM1 as to the loaded status of our Berreta.
"Fuck it" says he. "Call that mover guy you spoke to this morning."
And so I did, and we are leaving next week. Sure, it's gonna cost us. But some of that will be defrayed by convincing the *spit spit* Relocation office to give up the required moneys for a DITY (do IT yerself) move, and we can take all the time we want for that, as new job is also paying for relocation expenses.
All's well that ends well if you have a GM1 on your side.
And a backup Beretta.