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Anyhow, I’m chattin’ with her—nice gal, calls herself Starla, prolly fake, who cares? She’s laughin’, I’m laughin’—folks, it’s a hoot ‘til she says, “Fifty bucks, grandpa.” Fifty?! Made me madder’n a wet hen—back in my day, you’d get a handshake and a burger for that! But then—here’s the deal—she winks, says, “Just kiddin’, Joe, you’re a charmer.” Heart skipped a beat, swear to God—felt like a kid again.

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But then, outta nowhere, this old lady shows up. She’s waving her cane like a sword. “Get off my tree!” she yells. I’m thinking, “Lady, it’s not your tree. It’s a public oak!” But she’s relentless. I’m caught in the middle of a tree war. I’m just trying to do my job, and now I’m a referee.