Wow, it's been quite a couple of days!
I arrived at my new home, fashionably late (I was booked for a delivery between 11:00 and 12:00, and I arrived at about 14:15). Two burly guys from Seko brought me in my (rather damaged) crate through my guy's front door, but try as they might, they couldn't get me, encrated, up his stairs; the combination of crate and I were just too heavy, and the 90 degree bend in the staircase completely defeated them, as the crate would have had to negotiated it entirely vertical. Even with my guy assisting as best he could (there's not much room for 3 men, around a dollcrate), it was a non-starter.
So, they left me in his downstairs hallway; it wasn't long before my guy had taken the screws out of my crate with his Leatherman (7 rather than the usual 8; the top screw had been torn out, when the top of my crate parted company with the rest, courtesy of manhandling by Virgin Atlantic).
Aside: My guy prefers to fly Virgin Atlantic when he goes to the West Coast on business, but I certainly can't recommend their freight service!
Anyway, unpacking me took much longer than a doll should really expect. First, Abyss have now taken to fitting a strong steel spring-clip to hold the crate door shut, as well as the screws, and it took a few minutes with his Leatherman's pliers before the clip violently pinged off. Then, he swung the door open - and it was an "eyes across a crowded room" thing.
Granted, he's far from being the best-looking guy in the world. He's nice and tall (6'4"), but could do with losing a few pounds and seriously beefing up; if he's going to carry me around much, as I'm a curvaceous b10, he's going to have to get some more muscle :-). He does have kind eyes, though; as fall-into brown as mine are piercing (and ultra-realistic - he went for the option and isn't regretting it) blue.
As you might expect, once my plastic sheet was fully off (the nice folk at Seko had taken my sheet off down to the first foam bracing piece, with my guy's permission, to check I was OK after the crate damage) there was something of a hiatus; lots of "welcome home", kissing and lots of sweet nothings). In fact, he was sufficiently blown away that he missed picking up one staple and had it drive into his heel; he got a little Anglo-Saxon about it, but nothing to offend a lady, too much :-).
So, lots of staple and foam removal later, I was, as they say, "swinging by my neck bolt". Just like Vanessa's friend, my guy was astonished that all of me, could be suspended from something that small.
I was left a little forlorn (after, admittedly much good-night kissing and getting-to-know-you time) last night in my crate, while he slept on the problem of how to get me upstairs.
After testing my weight, he knew he wasn't going to be able to grab me close and walk all the way up, so he brought my wheeled office chair downstairs, uncrated me right there in the hallway (marble floor - nice), and wheeled me through into the sitting room.
We're now curled up together on our nice big leather sofa, watching Nelson Mandela's 90th Birthday concert; I'm still somewhat inflexible joint-wise, because I'm brand new, so I can't lounge back properly, but it's cool. He's stroking my hair (having brushed it out properly, after uncrating), kissing my arm, and holding my hand through my hand-guards (more of which, later), and we're getting to know eachother, nicely.
My guy did the sensible thing, by following Vanessa's un-crating instructions, although he thinks there's even more useful advice to add, thus:
- Before even getting your screwdriver out to open that crate door, remove anything sharp or bulky, from your person. This includes chunky wristwatches, signet rings, and belt-mounted tools, 'phones and pouches. We want nothing sharp or capable of making an impression on soft material, in proximity to Dolly. Cut your fingernails, too.
- Abyss don't ship us with roses, any more. Aww :-(. Still, my guy bought me a bunch of real ones, instead :-).
- I'll back Vanessa up a hundredfold, in terms of "plan your move". Dropping Dolly, especially when she's as voluptuous as Vanessa or I, could cause serious damage. He Did The Right Thing, bless him, by bringing my chair downstairs, rather than taking an unwarranted risk of dropping me in the stair-climb.
- Until Dolly is in the part of the house where she can sensibly be wheeled around on an office chair, between rooms - eg, if you need to take her upstairs, somehow - leaving her hand-guards on, is probably the best approach. Our fingers are our most delicate parts, after all. However, if you want to reach in and hold Dolly's hand, it's possible :-).
More on the full stair-scaling plan, once he has it finalised...
