Orchid Drama

The heatwave that has made Chicago almost uninhabitable these past couple of days has finally subsided, but I noticed that the petals of my beloved orchid had begun wilting and shedding. I was pretty distraught about it. I mean, we took this orchid across the country with us.

This is what happens when you major in religion in college and your advisor writes a book on the value of plants as "sentient beings"--you become unreasonably attached to your orchid plant, and feel an irrational obligation to see it through a heat wave. Fearing for its life, I did what any good parent would do, I rushed it to the doctor. Except in this case the doctor was a benevolent hipster at Sprout Home in Wicker Park. Standing before me with his half-shaved head, thick-rimmed beige glasses and a striped shirt that I'm sure he thought looked "French,"he examined my orchid and told me, "It looks healthy." I explained the petals had been shedding in the heat, and he told me that, well, flowers shed their petals. DUH. He then pruned away the old petals, leaving me with this little nub.

It was a traumatic experience that ultimately resulted in a hipster hurting my pride. If my orchid really is sentient, it had better be thankful.