Thing 194 Piano Moving

Sweet divine mother of someone holy... I shouldn't be allowed to touch expensive things. Honestly. I shouldn't be let near your fancy kitchen china, and that doesn't even count as expensive when you consider what they let me get my hands on last Sunday. Bought second hand, you can pick up one of these pianos for a measly ninety thousand euro. I don't think that looks dramatic enough - here's the digits: 90,000. If you wish to shell out for a new one, say for example if you let some clumsy oaf help you move it, it's going to cost you about 150,000 euro.

Would you trust me with that? The guy that couldn't make an origami swan?

Chris Jackson though, now that guy can be trusted. His Da tuned pianos, and he learned the art himself before opening a piano business. If you're looking for a piano, or piano mover - Gallery Pianos. The question you'd have to ask is why would Chris let me move a piano? Why? Do I need to start typing zeros to emphasise my incredulity?

Thankfully, professionals have professional equipment. Like piano tanks...
Yes, that's a giant grand piano on what I can only call a piano tank. The grunt work comes from getting it out of the van and onto the tank, and that's donkey's time to shine... Pushing and pulling is pretty basic, even I can handle that crap. So that's what we did. Three of us versus piano. A battle of wits, no wait, a battle of brute strength. On the piano's side: weight. On our side: a tiny little cylinder underneath the crate... genius. Ancient Celts thought of it when they were making Newgrange, but I'd have stood there all day without coming up with that clever little plan.

You know how much I dislike sweating. Or exerting myself. Or standing up excessively.
As I said, I can appreciate donkey work, it's what I'm good for. When Ci Ci Do was getting her attic converted, Puc It Out's dad needed a hand with the conversion. When I say he needed a hand, what I mean is that he needed some donkeys. The difference is that my donkey work here was going to cost someone 150,000 euro if it went wrong. That's pressure. Pressure's not just for tyres you know.

All went well though. Out of the van with a serious grunt. Onto the tank. Up the ramp with a little gentle persuasion. Through a narrow little hole in the stage loading entrance and behind the set for that night's show. I think I can count that as a success. No one has to shell out in the six figures for my mistakes... that's definitely a win.
On the plus side, it gave me the chance to get back into the Wexford Opera House. Did I mention I'm in love with it? It also presented me with a great opportunity for posing, a skill I've acquired after years of practice.

The Thief's a poser from time to time. Marketeer's wearing a tux. If that doesn't entitle him to pose, I don't know what does...

So... Posing and a chance to see the opera house in exchange for a little sweat? I think that's a pretty sweet deal.