Remember the arborist?
(God knows, I do.)
He sent a Christmas card.
One of those glossy, picture cards, with “Happy Holidays” printed at the end.
Do you realize what this means?
I am in possession of a picture of this man. That I can look at, anytime. In the privacy of my own home. And I didn’t have to do anything stalker-ish to get it.
(Oh yeah, his wife and kids are in it, too. But the look on his face says he’d ditch them all in a second for a shot with moi.)