When I lived in L.A., I hired movers from the Delancey Street Foundation, a halfway house for recently incarcerated folks.
My friends were like, are you crazy, letting ex-cons put all of your stuff into a truck?
Well, they couldn’t possibly be any shadier than regular movers, I reasoned.
Best movers I’ve ever had. I’m not exaggerating when I say these dudes sprinted up and down the stairs carrying hundreds of pounds of my stuff.
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