The Gift That Keeps On Being A Pain In The Ass

Please, for the love of God, stop asking about whatever it is you gave me.

(Photo by Z S on Unsplash)

Here’s the thing. Once you give somebody something, it’s gone. Let it go. That sweater you gave me last year? I could be wiping my ass with it. I could’ve given it to the Salvation Army. My dog might be wearing it. It’s no longer your concern. Please, I beg of you, stop asking me about it.

Sometime last summer, a client sent me an orchid.

Now, I can barely keep myself alive, let alone a tropical plant that is the floral equivalent of a chihuahua.

It needs special food. It has to be kept warm. It needs light, but not too much light. It of course needs water, but not too much water and something about ice cubes and, honestly, I lost interest about halfway through the website I opened up to find out how the hell to take care of an orchid.

I went to an orchid show right before the pandemic started and I was attacked by a butterfly. It knew I didn’t belong there.

The problem is that the client keeps asking about the orchid.

The truth is that I rehomed the orchid, in the sense that I gave it away. It was either that or a…