He was cute, tan, and wore cowboy boots with Carhart shorts, this local landscaper was easy on the eyes. Eloquence was not his strong suit, "Yeah, uh, ya see, here in the backyard yur gonna want to have the grass run right up to your retaining wall. Who ever put in yur lawn out front. Ya know that strip a rocks between the lawn and the cement wall? Yeah, well, that looks real stupid." HARSH! I personally love our front yard. Its modern garden wall, the lush green grass, the river rocks and tropical plants. I SHOULD love it, John and I designed it, installed it, planted it, and yes, even put in those stupid rocks along the wall. I fired back, "Those rocks were actually put in for a reason, Jim (his name was James and I knew it), because the concrete footing for the wall sticks out 6 inches and no grass that I'm aware of grows on concrete," (And those rocks look really cool, asshole). He briefly raised his eyebrows and grunted. We changed the topic to my vision of how our yard should function for us and what elements I needed. I rattled off my ideas for curving walls and lawns, and how we wanted it all to look like an exotic resort. He kaboshed my curves by telling me that they would only suit the corners of the yard and anywhere else wouldjust look silly. That the lawn couldn't curve because the irrigation needed to run in 12 by 12 squares. I'd heard enough already! A woman needs her curves! I knew that this guy, no matter what I said, had our yard slated for something out of a local tract development. I decided that watching this good looking cowboy swing a pick axe in my backyard (shirtless, of course) wasn't worth the trouble when my husband arrived home from work. Was it 6 already? "John, this is Jim, oh, hah, I mean, James." After a recap on our discussion, landscaper guy tells John how he likes our front yard landscaping except for the stupid looking oak tree by the front gate. And then says he'd like to "take care of it" for us. Who is this guy? The mafia's outlaw hit man? Last time I checked, insulting clients wasn't in the better business manual. Game over. Bye-bye, Jim.
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