The gardener doesn't want to have sex with you anymore.
"But I bought all these new contraptions," you'll say.
"I met someone else," he'll say. "She's married and dissatisfied as well. She lives in the mansion three houses down. She really gets me."
"Is this because of that one time when I told you that if you didn't sleep with me I'd accuse you of stealing and have you arrested?"
The gardener will say, "It's not that. I hear that line every day."
He'll come and kneel by your daybed where you like to drink in the afternoon.
"People change," he'll say. "They grow. It's what makes life worth living. Sure there's loss, but only to make room for more gain."
You'll throw your pitcher of mimosa at his head but he'll duck. Then he'll run out the front door, not even looking over his shoulder for one last glance at the beauty you gave to him. You'll go upstairs, put on some makeup, then you'll go out back to show your naked breasts to the pool cleaner, just to get his input.
Happy Goodbye The Gardener Day!
