Holy crap, they won't stop emailing me.
They don't want me involved in their volunteer project because my suggested materials aren't green enough. Despite me confirming from the manufacturer that the frightening chemicals are no longer used. And all this is totally fine.
The problem is that one of them keeps forwarding me their e-mail chain, wanting advice. And when I finally broke down and replied with a solution, he told me he would back out if I tried to help.
Now, he keeps emailing me asking if I want to drive over to help. Does. Any. Of. This. Make. Any. Fucking. Sense. ?.
No. It can't make sense. Because if it does, my only option is full-on flag-waving chest-beating misanthropy.
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Dear Group of Men Who Own Tools,
I get it. You own things. They make you feel brave. But now you have to put the pieces together, and you're confused. You really want to do this without me, but you know you'll be fumbling around like morons for hours.
You're all too proud to admit it, but I can roll up with my thousands of dollars worth of equipment and crank this out in minutes. It kills you that someone you desperately want to shun has a skill you don't have.
Well, I have a secret for you, fellow tool owners. Owning shop tools, and even knowing how to use them, doesn't make you a man. You're a man when you can quit tying your masculinity to inanimate objects.
Call me when you stop being pathetic,
-Lost