Please stop calling me the Sex Tree. I do have an actual name, you know. I think “The Class of 1963 Tree” has a very nice ring to it, and I would appreciate it if you people would have some respect and start using my real name.
Look, the whole “Sex Tree” thing may have started out as a joke, but it’s gotten old real quick. Just because some people had sex under my beautiful branches one time doesn’t mean I should be called the Sex Tree forever. It hurts my feelings, and I don’t even think it’s very accurate. I didn’t ask them to come have sex here, for your information. They just kind of showed up, and before I knew it they were going at it like rabbits.
How would you feel if someone showed up in your personal space and started getting down and dirty? I’m a tree! I couldn’t go anywhere! That experience scarred me for life, and you people remind me of it every single time you call me the Sex Tree. If something like that happened to you and everyone started calling you “Sex Steve,” would you like it? I don’t think so.
Besides, if you’re all going to call me the Sex Tree, I think you should at least show a little consistency. Do you put “sex” before the name of every place where someone had sex one time? It’s not called “the Sex Deece,” is it? I’ve never heard anyone say “the Sex Vogelstein Center for Drama and Film” or “the Sex Quad,” so how come I have to be the Sex Tree? If you were ever to have sex (unlikely), would you start going around calling your room “the Sex Room?”
Anyway, do you think I’m the only tree on this campus that has ever played host to a little action? People have sex in the Class of ’84 tree and the Class of ’78 tree all the time, and those trees over by Sunset Lake have seen things you people wouldn’t believe. Why does nobody ever talk about that? The Class of ’82 tree has some stories that would make your hair curl, and I know for a fact that sap isn’t the only fluid that has dripped down the trunk of the Class of ’55 tree. The Class of ’69 tree has earned its name on multiple occasions, but all I hear is “Sex Tree, Sex Tree, Sex Tree.” Give me a break!
Ultimately, I think it comes down to a matter of respect. I’m just a regular, non-sex tree, and I wish everyone would take that into consideration and treat me with a little bit more regard. How about a nice, platonic hammock nap in my branches some time? Or a pleasant, chaste picnic as the spring breeze stirs my leaves?
Just a couple of ideas. This is the Class of 1963 tree, signing out.
