I was only in my new rental apartment for a few weeks when I realized I wasn't as solitary an individual as my ex-wife had relentlessly tried making clear to me. I actually missed her incessant nagging. Getting a pet didn't seem practical since I had to work for a living and my former wife was depending on me to pay the mortgage on my ex-house.
So I invested in a nice potted plant. The plant was called a Dracaena and stood about 3 feet tall. To me it looked Polynesian so when I gazed at it I felt as though I could be on vacation, something I would probably never be on again. A little tag that someone had the good sense to stick in the dirt alongside the plant had some simple directions printed on it about how to take care of a Dracaena. The plant needed as much attention as I did so I felt akin to it and we hit it off immediately.
After a few weeks of doing exactly what the little tag in the dirt said to do I deviated from it ever so slightly and shoved some plant vitamin sticks in the dirt. What had I done? After a few days the plant looked sick. This always happens to me. I’m never satisfied. After digging in the dirt with a spoon searching for the sticks I realized the plant had sucked them all up. The Dracaena was wilting more and more each day. In desperation as I was leaving for work I put the plant outside by my back door hoping the fresh air would revive it.
My landlord was a very nice person, but he was a little slow. If you've ever known a person that when you talked to them they spoke so slowly and deliberately you felt you had to finish there sentences for them before your heart stopped, that was my landlord. When I arrived home from work that day and walked around to the rear of the house where the entrance to my apartment was, I unlocked my door and stepped inside. I glanced over by the window. The plant was gone. I breathed a sigh of relief when I remembered that I had put it outside. Why hadn't I seen it when I walked in? I stuck my head out the door and this time the plant was really gone. I searched the yard, then for some reason I looked over the fence in my neighbor’s yard. Nothing.
My landlord’s car was in the driveway which was unusual because he came home from work later than I did so he must have taken the day off. I rang his bell and when he answered the door I posed the likely question. What happened to my plant? Oh he said. That was your plant? I didn't know how it got there. I never saw it there before. After a long pause I said alright, sooo? Well he continued I don’t really care for that type of plant. It reminds me of a lot of snakes coming out of a pot. Yes I said, I know it’s not every ones cup of tea but I like it, sooo can I have it? I’m sorry he said it’s gone. I put it out with the garbage this morning. My mouth opened and nothing came out. I think it was dying he declared as if trying to make me feel better. As I ambled slack jawed to the back of the house again I thought to myself, I should just be thankful that I hadn't gotten a pet that he didn't like.
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