My wife and I found excellent opportunities a thousand miles away. We contracted Orange Movers to help us start this new chapter in our lives. The men that showed up to the work at Point A were personable, experienced, polite, and everything else you could hope for. They had our stuff loaded up and the papers signed in record time. We tipped the men and watched our things drive away. That's when things went south. So, as it turns out Orange Movers subcontracted Navy Seals Moving LLC. We waited a week for our things to arrive. They were supposed to give us 24 hours notice. They called us in the morning the day of and said they would deliver between 5 p.m. and 7 p.m. that evening. This is a Saturday night, prior to Easter. We had to call them when they were a half hour outside their window of delivery.
They were in the process of trying to manuever an eighteen wheeler into an alley at the back of our building when the building manager happened to be walking back to the building and said that this couldn't happen due to the potential of damage to the building. So one gentleman, whose name is Steven tells me I have two options: I can either have them just unload our stuff and I can move it up myself, or they can rent a smaller truck, for an additional three figure sum. I don't know this guy from Adam, and he's already unexcusably rude. I'm not sure where on Earth he was from but I don't think he learned any manners there. Respect must have also been something he was unfamiliar with.
So, Steven just walked away from me, climbed in to the truck cab, and they drove away. There were several alternatives to where they could park. We have nothing in our apartment at this point save for a few suitcases and a few bags of clothes. We had to resolve the situation.
I called Steven on the phone and asked him if he could park elsewhere. He said, and I quote, "this is the United States of America. There are rules and regulations. This isn't Mexico." Steven has rudeness down to an artform at this point in his life.
My wife and I go outside and meet up with Steven and his colleauge Michael. We walked the alley behind our building. Michael was just as good as Steven at being rude, but he's not quite as high-strung. Again, there were several solutions to the situation, but neither one cared enough to find one. Steven said to me at one point: "We have Class A licenses. Go online and look it up. We have to make this turn from a two-lane street. We're professionals." Keep the last part of his statement in mind. So, tired of arguing with these two classy gentlemen we came to the conclusion that they were going to load a smaller truck and come back in the morning.
During the course of our evening experience we called the dispatcher to involve him in the situation. He was just as rude as Steven and Michael, but not consistently.
Easter (the next day): so they called us at 7:30 a.m. and told us to come downstairs. They had brought a Uhaul that the alley could accomodate, but instead of coming down the end of the alley with no vehicles blocking it, they brought it to the end of the alley that was occupied by a different moving company. These guys are professionals. That's what they told me.
They said nothing to the driver of the other vehicle, and proceeded to drive the Uhaul forward. They hit not only a lightpole with the driverside rearview, but they managed to get a rear corner of their Uhaul stuck on the side of the other companies truck. I'm going with the term "professionals" for them is relative. The Uhaul was considerably smaller than the rig they brought the night before. They couldn't drive that. The only thing those "professionals" can drive effectively is an argument. So, after these guys finally get their truck untangled my wife called the dispatcher. She said that our movers got their Uhaul attached to another vehicle. His response: "how does that affect you?" point blank. She said that our movers were making her miserable. His response "if you're miserable that has nothing to do with me. You should see someone about that." Maybe Steven, Michael, and Antoyn (the dispatcher) all took the same class on how to be a complete piece of work.
We finally started getting our stuff going. Steven at this point has become combative with me. My wife has epilepsy, which fortunately is well-managed, and she has a pill that she can take in case of an emergency related to her seizures. She had to take this pill, because she was afraid of the duress of this experience precipitating a seizure.
So, my wife left and I supervised these guys finally put our belongings in our apartment. Michael was more subdued, but Steven was more hostile. Every box marked "FRAGILE" all over it meant nothing to Steven. Steven said something to Michael in a language I didn't recognize. I could sense an angry tone in Steven's voice, and Michael hit him in the shoulder. Not because I understood him, but Michael knew what Steven said should not have been said aloud. They caused damage to a decorative column-type thing outside our door with one of their handtrucks. I took a picture of the damage.
My wife and I finally have all of our things in our apartment. We were berated, belittled, and mistreated at every step. As it turns out, the dispatcher is the owner of Orange Movers. You know "if you're miserable you should see someone about that." I didn't even capture all the snarky things Steven had to say. Not worth repeating. I can't change the past any more than you can. My advice to you, reader of this review, is not to give Orange Movers a penny of your hard-earned money. If you see a truck with Navy Seals Moving LLC just send them away. I'm inferring that my wife and I are not the only two marks this company has abused. Past behavior can predict future behavior. Don't become a victim of Antoyn, Michael, or Steven. They really are the architects of the worst move on Earth.