“Your only option is a crane.”
These are words no one ever hopes to hear. Especially, I might add, when you’re a single girl who lives on the fourth floor of an apartment building and you’re watching delivery guys trying to squeeze a new couch through the front door.
And yet, there we were. The guys, my gorgeous new Leo sofa from EQ3 wedged between my door and the stairwell opening, and me. Before I had time to panic on a grand scale — I was already envisioning my couch sitting outside overnight, giving wild dogs a place to burrow — the delivery guy suggested I call a crane operator.
As if, I thought. Even if the crane operator could lift the sofa to (and through) my balcony doors, what are the chances he’d be free when we called?
Pretty good, actually.
Dennis picked up on the first ring, showed up within the hour and, within 20 minutes, had lifted my sofa to my balcony doors. To me, he was Santa, performing a Christmas miracle with his crane of a sleigh.
Now, here’s what amazes me about Calgary. A few weeks ago, I tried to catch a cab from a friend’s Christmas party. It took me a full hour to reach a taxi company and another two before one even showed up.
Catching a cab in Calgary? Impossible. Having a crane show up at your door? Easy peasy.