They spoke mostly French. She had a new boyfriend who I hadn't met. I was there because I'm a pushover with a valid driver's license. I didn't think the boyfriend spoke any English, since they weren't using any. I eventually learned he was from Africa somewhere; Ghana perhaps. We talked for a few sentences before his phone rang and he was able to talk to someone else.
Before tonight, it didn't sound bad. The way she explained it a week ago, it seemed like I could put a few bags of clothing in my van and take it a short distance away. It would take maybe an hour. I reflected upon this as I was a few hours deep in manual labor. The U-Haul office had my info on file, and I was driving a big truck to various corners of Philadelphia. The job description had expanded, and I was trying to convince myself to be amused.
Realistically, I didn't mind much. That's why I was there. I'm a guy who wants to help, and I don't mind much. Tonight was an example of how that can be stretched to the limits. I stood in the back of a U-Haul truck on north Broad Street thinking how glad I am that I don't own much and I don't live here.