Southern Hospitality

I had another little adventure today.  I needed a comfortable chair to use in the living room and I had just the right one in the storage unit.

I decided today I would check with the storage place, Autry Self Storage, and see if they would rent a pick-up to me, or if they provided any kind of moving services.

The usual clerk was not in the office, but there was an older gentleman fiddling around in the office.  I asked him if there was any kind of moving help available to move one chair from storage to the house.  He said, "Well, I could take it in my truck..."

Hesitantly, I told him, okay, if you're sure, as he walked out of the office with tools in his hands.  They were having trouble with their automatic gates.  When the usual clerk came in I told her what I was there for.  She told me the older man was the owner.  I asked her if I should take him up on his offer.  She said, "Well, he's not as strong as he thinks he is..."   Uh oh.  What do I do now?

When he was done messing with the gates he asked me where to go.  I thought it might offend him if I said no thanks. So I told him to go down Murrill Hill, turn left on Burgaw, and left on Haws Run but I planned on being right in front of him all the way to direct him to the house.  So he and a teenage boy followed me out the gate toward home.  I drove slowly but somehow I missed him somewhere along the way.  I even pulled over and waited, thinking he was just behind a slow car or something.  I waited and waited.  And waited.  No big black truck.  I drove to the house, thinking I had to have lost him somewhere but I saw a big black truck drive down Haws Run, so I followed for a while thinking that was him and he missed me.  After a few miles I decided it was just not the best solution.   I called the storage office and the clerk told me he had just gotten back there and was looking for me.  Uh oh.  She put him on the phone and I tried to give him directions again.  He said several times, "You're off Dawson Creek Road, right?  Oh gosh.  I don't even know where Dawson Creek Road is.  He put the clerk back on the phone and she said, "Don't worry about it, I'll get him directions." 

I parked the car out by the main road and stood on the corner to watch for them.  He passed me by briefly but backed up and came to the right place.   His teenage helper carried my chair into the house for me.  I asked the gentleman what I owed him and he said, "Nothin.  Just keep using our storage."  Oh man.  I was so grateful.  I asked him if I could tip his helper and he said, "If you want to."

I think the owner is probably 75 or more (I'll call him Mr. Autry) and possibly has a little Alzheimer's or some degree of dementia possibly.  But, what a kind thing to do!  I'm so grateful to have my chair!  I'll find out from Robin, the clerk, if he has a favorite cookie or something and I'll take him some.

By the way, Mr. Autry told me he lived on Haws Run in the sixties. Oh my.  Now I'm curious where Dawson Creek Road is...