5 Aug


A few days ago a few severely attractive “met at work” wandered up to my cabin.  Mind you, unattractive people don’t meander up to my cabin much less blue collar greek gods.  I walked outside to see what was going on, Keith being the owner of the house had just laid down for a nap.  I talked to the guy surveying the area and the conversation went a bit like this:

Blue Collar Greek God: “Blah blah, I’m hot, blah blah blah, I’m a supercutie, blah blah blah trees.”

Me: “Uh huh.”

Blue Collar Greek God: “Blah blah blahdie blah, I’m super hot, blah blah blah trees.”

I hadn’t absorbed a single word he said, but this was too good for Keith to miss out on.  Not to mention he may need to know some of what the guy had just said.  So I went inside and knocked on his door, he had just laid down but I know a blue collar greek god was enough to get him up from his nap.  Oh yeah, and something about trees.

He went outside and talked to the guy, actually had a full conversation and such, and translated it back to me as the phone company would be coming out and clearing out a lot of the tree branches that could potentially cause damage to the power lines since there’s so much snow build up here during the winter.  I think his conversation with them was very similar to the one I had shared with them but he must have retained more of it.

So they brought in the big cherry picker and hid it somewhere in the woods.  I thought I had finally cracked when I was walking down the path to dinner and just to my right is a huge piece of mega-machinery nestled sweetly in the woods.  And there it sat for several days.

This morning the greek gods returned.

Keith’s partner Bryan and I go to coffee every morning to get our java on, gawk at townies, and get caught up with each other’s gossip.  This particular coffee shop NEVER gets anything right.  One day the owner said “you want your regular amaretto latte?”  We’ve gone there every morning for the past two months and I’ve never ordered anything amaretto.  I HATE amaretto, so of course I said no and ordered a white chocolate caramel latte.  He said ok and proceeded to make me an amaretto latte.  Being my customer-service minded self I became overly nice and forgiving, saying I’d just get a regular cup of drip coffee instead.  Throughout the rest of the stay that morning he apologized several times, but when you screw with someone’s coffee it throws off their entire day.  This morning was different, our drinks were perfect.  My pastry was perfect.  Everything was just dandy.

When we got back home the white collar greek gods were hacking away at trees, dragging limbs around, standing around nude contemplating apples…  who knows what they were doing but they looked pretty doing it.  Soon after we got back Bryan had to start his day so he left.  I sat down and played with my blog for a bit.  Then a few minutes later Bryan comes back.

“I just had to get another look,” he said, giggling into the door, “He’s even got a pretty face!”  Which is uncommon amongst the townies around here.  Usually they’re look really good from behind or afar but up close they’re all slack jawed and missing teeth.  I think the local family trees all come from the same trunk around here…  Anyway, he got what he had made and excuse to come home and get and left.

A few minutes later Vero (my wig master) and one of the students came meandering up the path.  I was walking around the cabin doing Justin stuff, mostly things involving walking past the window to check out my new boyfriends.  They came in, chatted for a bit as we all stared out the window, then admitted that Bryan had sent them up to get a look at all the hunky man action happening outside my window.  So they stayed for a bit, got themselves all steamy, then headed back down the hill.

I had to take a picture.  A week before I left Texas my camera broke so I scrambled around the house to find one.  I tried Bryan’s camera but it’s all complicated and I couldn’t even get the screen to come on.  And as I sit typing this I just remembered that it’s a single action lense and doesn’t have a display…  damn my half-wittedness.  Anyway, I found an iPhone, snapped a couple pictures and emailed them to myself.  So here you go, our white collar greek gods that the entire camp has been oggling over.


the hot men tearing down trees.

the hot men tearing down trees.

more of the hot men.

more of the hot men.


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