Rent-a-Tree - A comedy short story by Jennifer Storm

Did you know that renting a tree's the latest fad at Christmas right now?

Basically, you don't buy some weird lookalike plastic tree or chop down my neck in the woods.—Yes, I am pretty, very pretty; top-model stuff. And I don't really want to lose any limbs or my gorgeously streaked needles. No thanks!

Other trees envy me for my natural-looking green tree color, so I don't want to end up brown like a turkey with black streaks and die at the end of the year. Humans get to start afresh at New Year's! So why are we getting discarded like a piece of garbage with a little glitter left as a reminder of one single month? Even though we make everyone so happy in December and all the way to New Year? Pfft! Stupid traditions! NOT FAIR AT ALL!

Actually, I should reach out to Greenpeace right now! But what the hell could they even do? Sabotage chainsaws? Hijack Christmas tree cutters and hold them for ransom? Highly unlikely!

Anyway, long story short, the environmentally-friendly, climate-saving thing to do is to rent a Christmas tree—like me. And I am not just any kind of tree, okay? I am a potted tree. POTTED! Yep! And that's the trick, or rather...my savior.

To those not-up-to-date people who don't even know what a Rent-A-Christmas Tree is, here is how it works: go online, pick a tree, choose your rental dates, pay for it - delivery and pickup included. That's it. Picnic in the forest!

(*Note: The longer you rent us, the better for us. All of this, of course, depends on the chosen location: Crappy location - short stay please! Amazing location - long stay, obviously! Simple! Just how you’d like your holiday to go down! So please, think it through! Book us the right way!)

Okey-dokey, now that we got that out of the way, let me tell you that being a RAT (I know, very derogatory) a.k.a. Rent A Tree (get it?) has its perks, but also its downsides, especially if you get rented out to the wrong effing place. That happened to me. And trust me, you have absolutely no control.

Zero! Nada!

So far, I had a pretty neat Xmas life. When I was tiny, no one wanted me yet because I was too scrawny to throw any kind of decor on me. Not even a nut. So, I had a great childhood. Whoop! Wish I could go back to that.

Then eventually, when I turned into a t(r)een (teen+tree) I got sent to reasonably decent homes every year, with pretty standard handling and care. Can't complain! Still I honestly miss being a little (k)ree (kid + tree).

But I gotta' admit, that one time, once I was all grown up, I scored big time and ended up in some crazy mansion. Now that was rad - imagine haute couture Christmas Lights and decor. And I'm talking 'bout lights so bright they'd make even the millionaire living there cry at the electricity bill, humongous ornaments made of freakin' gold, and presents wrapped by people who have design degrees lying at my feet. I am getting Christmas-bauble-bumps just remembering this. Hallelujah!

And the best thing was that the annoying kids of this shamelessly rich family got pampered by three nannies, so I had my peace. Anytime they just so much as moved or got near me, their nannies put them right in their place. It was helicopter nannying at its finest!

I didn't lose one needle during that time. No Christmas-crazed mom hectically spritzing me with a cold-water-filled pink spray bottle. Nope! I had my very own gardener catering to my every need with spa-like fertilizers, warm water misting, and branch clippings. Now that was the life...

...until the economy tanked. Ugh! From then on, it all went downhill. Although I have to admit that in a nice kind of way, we all got a neat little break from Christmas at first, which wasn't too shabby. Quality sunlight, regrowing needles in peace, no cats using us as climbing gyms, no dogs mistaking us for urine stalls. Just collecting unemployment - basic water rations, fertilizer handouts, and photosynthesizing with zero obligations. Can't complain!

Nevertheless, Christmas got seriously scaled back. And at the end of the day it's our job. Demand dropped harshly because of monetary restrictions (yep, renting us doesn't come cheap!); people were penny-pinching which led to them thinking "hey we don't really need a big tree this year" (suddenly we're not essential? Please!)

Some people even thought they could split rental costs by sharing us between families. We literally had a costumer who split one of our trolleagues (tree+colleague) between FOUR families - one week each in December…jeez. Poor guy got dragged from house to house every single week, getting re-decorated over and over. Honestly thought the dude would just give up and shed all his needles from stress.

Kind of worried about him, wondering if he would make it through all that back-and-forth craze. We are trees remember? Even if we look damn sturdy. But thankfully the dude made it, however, he's still suffering from harsh December trauma and recovering from burnout. Good for him, because what I went through was worse, way, way worse...

So let me tell you about the Christmas that changed everything. It was not pretty. After things started picking up a little economically and some of us were going back to "the grind" beginning in November - yep, some people want us for Thanksgiving already - but obviously most of us got back in December.

Anyway, we were all pretty excited and hoping for the best Xmas digs. Options were sparse - mostly contract jobs where trees just stayed a week or hell, at times just a couple of days. Trees were even getting repossessed from family homes when families couldn't pay - right there in the contract's fine print: "Repossess the tree if you can't pay the fee.” Hearts of kids torn to shreds, hearts of trees torn to needles. It was a sh*t show to say the least.

That's why I was freakin' excited when I scored a permanent job. I was surprised I got it, because when they asked me during the interview what my five-year goal was, I was like "seriously dude? Sure, let's map out my career plans when everything's contract work and I could literally get repossessed tomorrow if someone can't make rent! Hell, let me plan my retirement too while I'm at it."

Somehow the interviewer loved it. Said at least I was real. So I got the gig, which was strangely late in the game. Very sus! And when I heard about my new workplace I didn't think much of it. A Zoo! Okay, sounds neat!

A friend even said, "dude you scored, it'll look huge on your résumé." I could live with that. I also thought it'd be nice to hang with animals! I mean, they're basically fellow nature dudes! How bad could it get?

It got bad, I'm telling ya'! I mean, the delivery to the Zoo was top notch. So I thought, good start. They even threw in some final touch ups like room-temp misting, not too shabby fertilizers and some sprucing. But once I arrived, things went sideways pretty fast.

First off, I got "time donated" by some celebrity environmentalist like Leonardo DiCraprio - yeah, that's what I call him now, a total DiCraprio move - who thought it would be so nice for people to enjoy a tree in some crazed animal den over Christmas. Spread the word about renting Christmas trees, better the environment, yada yada...kill me now.

That dumb dude had no clue what he was doing. Why couldn't these celebs just make their big bucks, enjoy their yachts and SHUT up while staying in their little eco-warrior bubble, far removed from the rest of us peasant trees? Now that is all we want you to do, and not give us average poor schmucks some pointless, unsolicited advice. Get a grip! You've been poor before and should know better. What is wrong with you?

Where was I? Oh okay: I am potted okay? Not some live tree who's done by the end of the year. But I feel ya', my fellow live trees. Cutting you guys down should be banished. But my life is at stake too okay? No hard feelings!

Let me explain, live or not, it might be nice for the zoo visitors to look at a Zooishly decorated Christmas tree, but animals and Christmas trees? THEY JUST DON'T GEL. NO FREAKING WAY!

The only thing animals see in us is food supply, either in terms of hanging stuff on me to munch off like a good ol' Swedish Smorgasbord OR actually nibbling away on us like the Smorgasbord ham at the Smorgasbord.

Sorry, I had to throw the Swedish Ikea thing in there, as you ALL know Ikea. If you don't know what a Smorgasbord is, look it up. Especially folks like Leo DiCraprio who never shop at Ikea like us poor regular schmucks dunno what it is. Yep, don't like the guy. Sorry! And by the way I'm not dating a tree half my age. Ha!

Anyway the gist of a Sb (not gonna' say the name again as it's getting annoying) is basically a "Swedish Christmas Eve" buffet with all the bells and whistles. Duh! You probably guessed!

So, my story is like the three ghosts of Christmas Past, only the ghosts I experienced were scary as hell, and got bigger and more frightening as the Christmas days progressed. Scrooge probably thought, "thank god I just had to deal with some lame-a** ghosts and not that kind of crazy!" Even thinking of this makes me pee or rather lose my water in the bucket!

Ok, let's begin with the first "ghosts" a.k.a the crazy monkey ghosts. I know, I know. Aw, monkeys! So cute; they really are; from a distance; on TV; in drawings...all those "Curious George" stories. Who doesn't like monkeys? Here's the thing though. If you give those clowns the opportunity to decorate a Christmas tree...run. RUN. RUN FOR DEAR LIFE!

But I couldn't run...so, their idiot caregivers set me up in the middle of the monkey den. At first I thought okay, this is somewhat nice. Being in the spotlight, getting admired! Sweet! I always liked the attention!

However, it wasn't quite as red carpety as you might think. These creatures didn't waste any time and instantly monkeyed over to check me out. And not like little kids going "ooh" and "aah!" It was more like sniffing me up, pulling at me, climbing me and freakin' "marking" me...yes they peed on me. PEED. ON. ME! And not just one of 'em like an occasional dog - we're talking MULTIPLE monkeys here! Can you believe it? Those little stinkers.

If I could, I would do the same, but all I have is natural essential oils and some little sap Saje could make a buck on. And my oils work well for colds. But it ain't a weapon here. Doesn't work against monkeys!

Anywho, that pee stench was the worst I've ever smelled in my short Christmassy life. Never, ever have I been subjected to such foul scents. I was used to candy cane heaven, gingerbread dreams, you name it.

But even worse than those wretched smells, was the "daily" decoration. So every single day - they called it Advent Calendar fun - they handed "fornaments" (food + ornaments) such as red, green and yellow bell pepper rings, nuts, orange and apple slices and other fornament crap to the kids outside of the den. Those brats then had a blast throwing those to the monkeys. The monkeys then flung them on me in an attempt to decorate me. And let me tell you, those clowns decorate like drunk toddlers. One started flinging and the others aimlessly followed, so that I ended up completely out of balance. I am honestly still feeling nauseous from all of that misalignment!

Anyway, the kids had a blast; the monkeys had a blast; me? Not so much. Once the show was over, those monkeys gobbled down the decoration off me in no time. I had to put up with tugging, pulling and such and lost my precious thick hair at an alarmingly fast rate.

I know, I know. It'll grow back, but still...those amazingly green streaks. Ruined by Monkeys! Ruined by Christmas! I felt like an Advent calendar who got raided daily, not preciously opened, and would soon look like a nevergreen.

But honestly I shouldn't complain because what happened to me was nothing compared to those live trees which got donated to the scary dens right next to me...

Remember my comparison to the Scrooge Christmas ghosts? The beasts my poor triends (tree + friends) had to deal with were worse than my monkeys. I couldn't even bear to witness what was happening to them, so I hid behind my branches.

Let me explain. Next to my den? A tiger den. ACTUAL TIGERS. Every day those sadistic caretakers would bring in a fresh tree to that wretched Roman-like arena and decorated it with "mornaments" (Meat + ornaments), their genius idea.

And I'm not talking about some cute little meat chunks - no, we're talking liver, heart, kidneys, ribs, BBQ-sized slabs of flesh - prime cuts dangling from my triends' branches like some sick butcher shop Christmas display. Then they'd let the tigers go to town.

They'd would first circle their decorated "prey," squabbling over who got first dibs on the good stuff. Then suddenly - WHAM - the alpha pounced, ripping into the prime cuts - the liver, the heart. The beta tigers tore into the ribs and BBQ slabs while the lowest ranks fought over scraps, all of them shredding the tree piece by piece in the feeding frenzy. DISGUSTING!

Once the meat was gone, they'd play with the remains for a while - batting it around, pouncing on it - until they got bored. By then? Just a sad heap of shredded tree on the arena floor. At least they didn't eat the tree. No. But that happened somewhere else...with one of the most innocent creatures in the world...think circus...

Elephants. I know, I know. I always thought they are such majestic things who can't harm a fly. And honestly I am not blaming them for what went down in their den. They need their veggies; they love their veggies! I seriously blame the caretakers, yet again.

There are so many veggies on the market, so why feed effin' Christmas trees to them? But apparently elephants eat any bushes, needles or not, and their stomachs are made of steel. And the visitors? They cheered it on like a sport. Meanwhile, the caretakers spun it as a "good deed for the environment" - feeding them the ugly trees humans didn't want.

The caretakers dumped a group of tree outcasts into their den. The elephants then just lazily waltzed towards them and started nibbling on them like giant hors d'oeuvres, tearing out branches with their trunks effortlessly until there was nothing left apart from stems. So, in no freakin' time the whole group of trees was shortened to toothpicks. I wanted to do a group hug with my branches, just to keep them warm and decent for a little while. I am still crying saps of tears.

All I can say after surviving THIS Christmas: at least I'm alive. I get rented every year, then take a long break to grow and get stronger for the next season to light up new homes. And after all this I am truly, truly thankful for any normal home I can bring joy to and for the fact that I'll be safe when I retire because they'll eventually plant me in some forest. (Unless there's a forest fire, which I heard can happen. But let's not go there...)

Listen up, humans: Please don't abuse us trees anymore! Why not rent us? (Not a zoo though, please!) We really deserve better. Especially those trees who were grown all the way to the age of fourteen and then just got cut down to shine for ONE MONTH ONLY. Think it through. It ain't right!

So Happy Holidays! Rent a tree if you can - we deserve better than one month of glory before the woodchipper. And if you see me in the rental catalog? I promise I'm house-trained. Well, mostly. The monkeys taught me some bad habits.