A good friend will help you move.
A great friend will help you move a body.
Science nor the British have yet developed an adjective to describe a friend that will help you move a cast iron bathtub.
We were forced into some emergency bathroom renovations. I say forced, because if I didn't yank all the tiles off the wall surrounding the tub in the master bathroom with a crowbar, and subsequently ripped out the blackened sheetrock underneath (FYI, sheetrock is normally white, with brown or green paper on one side and white on the other....so black indicates a problem of almost haz mat proportions), they would've started falling off on their own accord.
Once the studs were exposed, the next step was to remove the frame that was around 2 sides of the tub...an 18" L-shaped bench, if you will, that was also tiled. The tiles were attached to a layer of cement in 3 sections (although once I got through with them, it was 5) that were also wet and moldy. Underneath that...wet/moldy plywood. And underneath that, a frame of 2x4's. Those were ripped up (nailed to the concrete foundation) with the help of a 5 pound mallet, a wedge used to split wood (yes, I split wood in my free time), and a lot of four-letter words.
Eventually, all that was left was the bathtub. Halfway through the process, we made the decision to remodel and just install a shower, so we called a friend who owns a container business, and he left a dumpster in our driveway into which we deposited the moldy sheetrock, tiles, some gutters that I removed (and replaced with new gutters), and eventually the bathtub. But first, I called a friend, "R", who is usually good for such projects.
My friend met me last week at our home, and led him to the bathroom. He looked at the tub. He kicked it. He then looked at me and said, "That's cast iron, isn't it?" "Yes," I replied. "Should I have mentioned that?" "No," R said. "Because I wouldn't have come."
Not knowing how much a CI tub weighs, I didn't realize I should've called a couple more friends. We got it disconnected from the drain, and managed to only lift it on its side. Realizing that lifting it up and out of the house was impossible without incurring medical expenses and possibly further renovation expenses, R remembered he has a 4-wheeled dolly that you can use to move stuff like that. Thing is, R lives about 20-25 minutes away. But home he went, to grab the dolly, and come back. We lifted one end, slid the dolly underneath, and rolled that heavy motherfucking tub right out of my house and into the driveway, taking care not to let go, or it would roll down into the road and take out the neighbor's mailbox. I briefly toyed with the idea of riding down in the bathtub, like the guy from "Dr. Strangelove," but that would've been silly and dangerous. In other words, I'm not 20 anymore.
Both R and I would've enjoyed a lot of satisfaction lifting it up and tossing it into the dumpster, and listening to the ear-splitting "KLANG" that would've resulted, but we would've required 2 more friends, so instead we opened the door on one end, slid it in, and slammed the door shut.
If you're lucky enough to have a friend who will help move a tub, and upon seeing it's a cast iron tub he'll leave and then COME BACK to help finish the job, then that's a damn good friend.
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That is awesome. I hope you paid this guy with the beer/wiskey that he deserves. I also think Boxes of books and a three story apt move is also a good thing too.
ReplyDeleteI offered him beer (and not the Michelob light he left in my fridge from the last time he was over, but GOOD beer), and he turned it down. He instead got sweet tea and fresh-baked brownies.
ReplyDeletewow. i guess brownies is a good substitute. good friend indeed but he owns you from now on
ReplyDeleteI tried to help a couple friends move a cast iron tub when I was about 19. There were three of us and we could barely budge the thing. About the time we decided it was just going to have to stay where it was forever, the contractor brother-in-law of one of the guys walked in and asked if we had seen his hammer. We had not. He lifted one end of the tub with one hand and bent over to look under the tub as easily as someone looking for the remote control would lift a sofa cushion. His hammer was not under there. We felt very weak.
ReplyDeleteDrew, they were very good brownies. But yes, he does own me.
ReplyDeleteIan, did you get the BIL to at least help you move the tub?
Yes... well, he did it later with one of his guys. We were trying to figure out any sort of ancient Egyptian method we could to give us a mechanical advantage and he just picked it up and carried it out. He was about 5'8" and probably 160 pounds but very strong. It was kind of embarassing.
ReplyDeleteI can't believe he came back! Or at least that he didn't pretend to have left you high and dry. But, it is good to have some close cronies.
ReplyDeleteNow, if I could just find someone to help move a body in a cast iron bath.
ReplyDeleteSince my first (albeit very short-lived) job was at a plumber’s and builder’s merchant, I know about cast iron baths. I also know they’re extremely expensive, so I hope this one was in a poor state or you should have considered trying to sell it rather than dumping it.
ReplyDeleteAs you say, you have found the definition of a true friend there. Cherish him.
Simon, it was a cheap builder's quality, not one of those nice shaped ones with the feet that look all fancy. Nobody would buy this one. And the scrap value would be maybe $20, but I would have to haul it to the scrap yard.
ReplyDeleteAre you f*cking kidding me? I have a cast iron bathtub, and research on the subject tells me that the only way to "move" a cast iron bathtub is to tear down the house, and rebuild around the bathtub so that it ends up in the proper room.
ReplyDeleteWell, Mary, clearly you have never come across anyone as physically awesome as me (and my friend). Or, Tennessee hasn't invented the dolly yet.
ReplyDeleteOr, movers in Tennessee are lazy fucks who just want to raid your fridge for last night's BBQ take-out leftovers.
I thought you could smash cast iron bath tubs with a really big hammer, given the choice of trying to lift it or smash something into a million pieces I would of gone with the hammer first.
ReplyDeleteYou have a good friend there do you hire him out to other people to help shift things?
"Science nor the British have yet developed an adjective to describe a friend that will help you move a cast iron bathtub."
ReplyDeleteThis is probably as the British largely decline to wash. They wouldn't know what to do with one if they saw it. Probably form an orderly queue around it out of sheer force of habit.
^ That, and hide their wallet under the soap!
ReplyDeleteThis makes me want a bubble bath.
ReplyDeleteDr. Yobbo, I suggest the British, because the Americans usually create adjectives (and verbs) from nouns. "Bitching," for example. We are horrible stewards of the language.
ReplyDeleteLerm, as opposed to their travel bag, where it can easily be spotted by you? (that's right, I went there).
Luna, next time you take a bubble bath, stop to think about the men that moved that tub there, and thank them.
Dr Yobbo I thought a bath tub was a twice a year thing and the rest of the time it's a giant plant pot holder!
ReplyDeleteyou're his bitch now.. you probably will have to help him move a body someday. but it sounds like it was worth it. i had no idea they were that heavy.
ReplyDeletei think you should have ridden it out..
I would help this guy move a body. Since he and I share a similar mindset, generally, there's a good chance I would also help kill the victim.
ReplyDeleteFair call!
ReplyDeleteBut, glad to hear that there are stout chaps out there to help cronies move bodies. I'm simply puzzled by your use of the term 'victim'.
Would "unfortunate bastard" be a better choice of words?
ReplyDelete