Trim a Tree


One long ago morning on the way to work, I was practicing staring out the window when I noticed an astonishingly cute guy driving a truck advertising his tree service. The way my mind works is that I can’t remember the deadline I have for a project I promised faithfully to finish at work, but when it came time to have a tree in our yard cut down, the cute guy and his company immediately leaped to mind.

I called and he came over this afternoon. R Man was so struck by his good looks he had to leave while I took Dave on a tour of our yard and discussed tree issues and tried not to actually drool. And he’s sweet as can be, not at all affected by being as dazzling as the average underwear model in a town full of poofters.

As a prudent homeowner, I plan on getting several bids on the project, of course. And then I will give the job to Dave because, HELLO, you should see his biceps.

His photo (which doesn’t do him justice.) If you could see him, you would want to have your tree cut down, too. Hell, I’d plant one just so I could have him cut it down.

I wonder if he would charge extra to work in a series of fetching little costumes.

About mrpeenee

A former bon vivant and terror of a number of New Orleans bars in the mad, gay 1980s, I'm now quietly retired and widowed in San Francisco. I have a crooked nose due to an unfortunate Frisbee accident.

9 responses »

  1. Living in hurricane alley it must be said that I have never met an attractive tree serviceman. Ratty trucks, greasy chainsaws, beer bellies, muddy brogues, dunlaps and butt cracks are the norm. I would faint dead away if that appeared at my doorstep. “You hardly even broke a sweat…cut down that one over there…lets see if that one gets you out of your shirt.” I have lots of trees and endless patience.


  2. To resurrect a word from my youth, he’s pretty fine.Unlike ayem8y, however, such fine young tree men, have been the norm in my experience.I can’t tell you the joy I felt once post-hurricane. I was still in my teens and a whole swarm of such fine young men were swinging in the trees behind the house, like beautiful golden monkeys.ahem


  3. Sigh. Adorable boys like that always used to ask me for my number. Now they just ask me for directions (and call me ma’am) and ignore my trees completely.I love the little costume idea! Hmmm…. Davey Crockett in just a coon-skin cap and matching loin cloth?


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