We switched over to an artificial Christmas tree a few years ago because of a bad experience with a real one. I don’t know if it was partially dry one year or what but we picked out a nice Christmas tree at one of the places where you can cut it yourself and haul it out. We got it home and put it on the stand and filled it with water and within an hour it was empty. That tree was thirsty. I probably filled up the water 100 times before I gave up, and once I gave up the tree gave up too, and turned into whatever the tree version of jerky is. Not quite petrified but not quite organic matter either.
Because I am lazy, when the holiday was over I didn’t take the tree down in time for the city recycling to get it for free so I was stuck to coordinate its removal by myself. I wanted to burn it but as dry as the tree was it could have been a disaster. We rented a house on a golf course at the time and there was a little hedgerow separating the properties, so, because I am lazy I took the tree out there and hid it behind the hedges confident that nature would do its thing and there would be nothing left in a matter of months.
Two years passed and the slimy character we rented from needed to move back into his house. It was July and it was hot. As we made quick preparations to move on he also told us when needed to get rid of the Christmas tree in the back of the house. I had no idea how he even knew it was there so I walked back to its grave and saw that it looked the same as it did the day I dropped it off.
I didn’t have a truck and there was no way I was going to smash that thing in my car to get rid of it. Sure I could have cut it up, but again, lazy. Because we had such a tight time frame to exit the property I found help in the form of a repurposed political sign that had been painted over white and had an advertisement for odd job help written in black marker.
To that point in my existence, I had never ‘hired’ someone to perform labor for me. I had never really had the need to do so but now I was in a jam. I called the number and a young fellow picked up on the other end. I explained what I needed to be done and couldn’t help notice that it sounded like he was chewing on something on the other end. Manners. I figured since I had the guy coming out, I’d also throw him a few extra bucks to mow the lawn and trim the hedges so the grease ball landlord wouldn’t throw that back in my face. You know how landlords are…
The laborer shows up the next morning in a pickup truck with a trailer on the back, but no tools. He asks if he could borrow my tools. I started to become a little suspect but whatever, it was hot and I needed it done. The thing about employing someone to do labor is that it is kind of awkward to go back in your house and just watch tv while they are suffering on your behalf, even if you are paying them. You can’t help to walk around and look out the window and inspect. An hour later I looked out the window and the guy was gone.
I hadn’t paid him yet but got panicked because I thought he stole my tools and left me in a bind, but my tools were still there I call this guy back up and ask him whats going on and he tells me he needed to leave to go and get a “Little Debbie”. I assume he meant he needed a snack but what kind of weirdly specific excuse is that? He came back, did a little more, left again to get another “Little Debbie”. And the day went on like that. It took him 8 hours to do 1 hour’s worth of work.
Finally, at the end of the day he comes over to me to get paid and I have to remind him to take the damn Christmas tree which was the only reason I called him to begin with. He rolls his eyes at me, gets the tree, and puts it in the back of his trailer. I give him his money and then he asks for more because it took him longer than he anticipated. I gave him another ten bucks fearing if I didn’t he’d come and rob me in the middle of the night for “Little Debbie” money.
That night I had to run to the store and wouldn’t you know in the middle of the road about a quarter of a mile from the house in front of the “Odd Jobs” sign there was that damn Christmas tree and a pack of oatmeal cream pies in the road.