The Trimming

Last summer, a crew of city workers came on to our street and dug up all the front yards. They were installing new gas meters for the city. But there was so much digging I thought they were doing more than just putting in gas pipes.

So I asked one of the elderly workers about it. He said, "I'm putting in beer pipes for you. That way, you'll be connected to the brewery and can get beer directly from your tap." Clever man. I instantly forgave him for all the disruption and mess.

This week, two city workers came in a noisy truck to trim the trees on our street. They were rugged grandfatherly types, meticulous about their work, and took obviously pride in their efficiency. They swept up the street and tidied up a yard before moving on to the next. Once they leave your property, you'd never know they had been there, except your tree had been pruned.

When they reached my house, I noticed they had trimmed only one side. They were already sweeping up and shredding the branches. I went out to talk to them.

Because the shredding machine was on, they removed their ear phones to hear me as I leaned in close, almost rubbing foreheads with one of them.

"Will you be trimming any on this side?" I shouted.

"We will do that tomorrow. Because of the time, we have to clean up and get back to the office."

"It's not even 2 o'clock yet."

"We finish at 3:00. But we started at 7:00."

"Ah. I would appreciate it then if tomorrow you could trim up here so I don't get so much bird poop on my car all the time." I cupped my hand around his ear and my mouth so he could hear me above the buzzing truck shredder. I was so close to the man I had my arm around his neck and patted him on the shoulder when I finished.

"Okay. We'll take care of your bird poop problem tomorrow." He said with a big grin, a wink, and a pat on my back.

How did we get so friendly? Muscular, older city workers with trucks. You gotta love them. Only, they are all liars, all of them. It's been two days and they haven't come back to finish the job.