Petra—this one goes out to you!
I don’t know how standardized construction signs are, so I’m hoping my fantastic illustrations will help show you what I’m talking about. (I have used a very sophisticated graphics program called “Paint” to create these images.)
The first image shows what a normal construction sign looks like.
The second image shows what construction workers do here in Idaho when a sign is no longer pertinent, but no one has taken time to pick up the sign yet. They fold the sign in half, leaving a bar protruding out from the side.
I have a history with construction signs. One time in high school, I was running and tripped over one of the bars on the ground leaving me with a nice scar on my left knee.
As a result I make a habitual point of avoiding construction signs. Unfortunately, there is a school under construction on my bike route to work. This construction site has been plaguing me for the past year. First the construction workers started parking their trucks in the bike lane. Then they started parking a little closer to the curb, but with big boards sticking out of their truck beds. Then they damaged the road, rendering the bike lane invisible. Then they put cones in the middle of the bike lane, followed by construction signs. This stretch of road has been a gauntlet for the past year.
Over the last couple of weeks, they’ve started finishing projects up. They’ve re-painted the bike lane, removed the cones, parked their trucks in the parking lot. Things have been getting much better. They’ve also started folding the construction signs in half.
This morning I was riding to work. I think I knew the sign was there, but I also knew it was folded in half and was therefore not in my way. I was thinking intently about the imminent trauma involved with family pictures when—THUNK. My head smacked that stupid post protruding out from the retired construction sign. I made that noise that you make when you are watching a blooper reel and a guy gets hit in the nuts with a baseball. I, rather fortunately, was wearing a helmet so it only hurt a little. I then started to laugh hysterically. It was one of those circumstances where I was completely humiliated, but at the same time, REALLY hope that someone saw my idiotic move of the morning, so that they could have a good laugh to start out their otherwise drab day.
I don’t know how standardized construction signs are, so I’m hoping my fantastic illustrations will help show you what I’m talking about. (I have used a very sophisticated graphics program called “Paint” to create these images.)
The first image shows what a normal construction sign looks like.
The second image shows what construction workers do here in Idaho when a sign is no longer pertinent, but no one has taken time to pick up the sign yet. They fold the sign in half, leaving a bar protruding out from the side.
I have a history with construction signs. One time in high school, I was running and tripped over one of the bars on the ground leaving me with a nice scar on my left knee.
As a result I make a habitual point of avoiding construction signs. Unfortunately, there is a school under construction on my bike route to work. This construction site has been plaguing me for the past year. First the construction workers started parking their trucks in the bike lane. Then they started parking a little closer to the curb, but with big boards sticking out of their truck beds. Then they damaged the road, rendering the bike lane invisible. Then they put cones in the middle of the bike lane, followed by construction signs. This stretch of road has been a gauntlet for the past year.
Over the last couple of weeks, they’ve started finishing projects up. They’ve re-painted the bike lane, removed the cones, parked their trucks in the parking lot. Things have been getting much better. They’ve also started folding the construction signs in half.
This morning I was riding to work. I think I knew the sign was there, but I also knew it was folded in half and was therefore not in my way. I was thinking intently about the imminent trauma involved with family pictures when—THUNK. My head smacked that stupid post protruding out from the retired construction sign. I made that noise that you make when you are watching a blooper reel and a guy gets hit in the nuts with a baseball. I, rather fortunately, was wearing a helmet so it only hurt a little. I then started to laugh hysterically. It was one of those circumstances where I was completely humiliated, but at the same time, REALLY hope that someone saw my idiotic move of the morning, so that they could have a good laugh to start out their otherwise drab day.
