Tree Pusher

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.