I had never been to Penn Treaty Park before.
She said we should go, so I said okay.
We stopped on the way for some supplies: a bottle of
vodka, some fresh fruit, water and orange juice.
I had rolled a joint for the trip and the plan was
to trip on some mushrooms, too.
We ate some fruit, we drank some vodka. We ate some mushrooms, worked on a crossword
puzzle and settled in for the afternoon.
After a while of sort of just sitting and giggling
and watching the river, I shared the joint with two guys that were drinking
beers a few feet away from us.
The one kept commenting about how this row of trees
was abruptly leaning to the right about a third of the way up the trunk.
I went in to this whole bit about how I landed this
job right when I moved to Philly four years ago.
How I would stand in front of a tree and push on it,
two hours at a time and then move on to the next one.
Lean against that one with all my weight.
Right on down the line.
Eight hours a day for three years.
He didn't believe me.
I couldn't believe I got the whole thing out without
laughing.
She was embarrassed.
I was glad she was wearing sunglasses.
And even more glad there was some pineapple left.
