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Could be someone I know, someone I don't know, fictional characters, dead people. I don't care, I'm an equal opportunity complainer when it comes to complete dickwads.

Wherever there's a Complete Tool, I'll follow closely behind with my anonymous bitching. 'Cuz that'll show 'em.

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Wednesday, January 5, 2011

It's Dead, Jim

"Insanity: Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results." --Albert Einstein

Dear Landscapers:

When the ocotillo in front of our building was blown over during the hail storm a couple of months ago, you really should have tossed it out.  Instead, you replanted the thing.  There was no hope of recovery for this plant.  It was pulled up by its roots and was laying on its side for days.

So now we have this dead plant decorating our building.  I, sure as shit, wasn't about to go dig the damn thing up, so I let it go.

Until it blew over again.  I called our facilities department to make sure you knew that you really needed to get rid of it this time.  Like, fuh-reelz.  You must not have gotten the message, though, because the thing was up again when I got in to work the next day.

Until it blew over again.  This time, it snapped apart right above the roots (because that's what dead plants do sometimes; they're just kinda funny like that) and I naively thought, "Oh, yeah, it's definitely getting thrown out now.  No. Doubt."

Except when I got in the next morning, it was back up again.  Propped up with rocks.

Are you fucking serious?!

Then it blew over.  Again.  This time, I made sure to catch your asses out there AS YOU WERE TRYING TO PROP THE FUCKING THING UP AGAIN.  What do you say to me when I asked you to throw it out?

I'm going to have to ask my supervisor.  He's the one who told us to put it back up.

Sonofabitch.  When the manager of the property you're paid to work on tells you to throw away a very dead plant that keeps blowing over, just throw the fucking thing out. I told you to refer your supervisor to me, because I wanted to talk to him before you left.

I turn to go inside and could clearly see you signalling to the guy trying to Bernie my dead ocotillo.  I know enough Spanish to understand that you were telling him to take it down.  Less than a minute later, the truck was up front so you could get rid of the dead plant.

Huh.  I guess you have walkie-talkie implants that give you instant access to your supervisor.  Your landscaping business must be more lucrative than I thought.




drollgirl said...

the amount of genius on planet earth is just staggering!

and your story reminds me of my totally fucking retarded landlord. i could go on and on and site examples to back up that statement, but i'll spare ya!

Awesomeness said...

It is disturbing sometimes.

I would even chalk something like this up to laziness, but it actually takes more effort to keep replanting a plant than throw it out.

I'm stumped. (No pun intended, really.)