From Beverly Hills to South Central, I’m up and down stairs, with broken sofa beds, and refrigerators, under bridges, dragging wet, carpets to my truck, on roof tops, taking out swamp coolers, cutting apart old garages and back hoses, wading through the ocean with pieces of rusty iron stair cases that have broken away from beach-front homes, in dirt-filled crawlspaces and sweltering attics pulling out old, broken furniture, breaking up Jacuzzis sunken beneath decks that are suspended over cliffs, and a million other things that other haulers don’t do.
It’s 7 PM on a Saturday night and I’m at a condo on Wilshire Blvd in Westwood, picking up a couch and pinball machine, as I’m leaving I get a call to go to Huntington Beach, where it’s raining, to get some mattresses. By 9 I’m at the beach in the pouring rain fighting the queen size beds, getting them to my truck which is a block away…tough parking there on Saturday nights.
The next day, I’m in Highland Park, at a home built in 1887, removing 80 years of hoarded debris from a crawl space and carrying old broken furniture up 60 steps on the hill.
Another day I’m in Santa Clarita, doing a bathroom demolition and removing three rooms of carpet, later that night, at the dump in Sun Valley, throwing off 10,000 lbs of wood and concrete in the rain.
In Palos Verdes, tearing out the remainder of a block wall and removing old, broken wood fencing, then back up to West Hills in the valley, for 7 hours of digging and cutting out a Jacuzzi that was built into the side of a mountain.
At the Malibu Villas, transporting furniture to a home down the street, then in South Central, taking away two generations of hoarding that other haulers have turned down doing.
In Glendale, tearing out the carpet from two apartments, removing the appliances and taking out the the two bathrooms, a closet and kitchen, all packed neatly on my truck — all within 6 hours. The next day, doing a household move in Beverly Hills.