Perhaps this guy was hitting on me

Perhaps he wasn’t.

But either way, he fucking bailed at the first mention of compost.

“Are you a tree hugger?!” His eyes were wide. He hugged the space between us. I recalled the time in my life when I–in all actuality–hugged trees. And kissed them even.

“Aren’t we all?” Referring, of course, to the tree hugger within all of us.

And he’s gone. Something about more jello.

Lets hear from the peanut gallery, eh?

0 thoughts on “Perhaps this guy was hitting on me

  1. How did “tree hugger” become a dirty word? It’s sorry as all fuck when society would have us all look down our noses at those who would dare to trouble themselves with the problems our planet faces, rather than bury their heads in the sand and toss another cigarette out the bloody window.

    Then again, “feminist” became a dirty word, too. Don’t even get me started on that one…

  2. How did “tree hugger” become a dirty word? It’s sorry as all fuck when society would have us all look down our noses at those who would dare to trouble themselves with the problems our planet faces, rather than bury their heads in the sand and toss another cigarette out the bloody window.

    Then again, “feminist” became a dirty word, too. Don’t even get me started on that one…

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