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.